Taking A Chance
by PorscheDsgn
Summary: FINAL CHAPTER POSTED Joe learns that everything he knew about his brother Frank’s death is not as it seems. If he learns the truth will he and his family be able to deal with it and cope with the consequences of everything that has happened?
1. Chapter 1 Living Life

**Story Name:** Taking a Chance

**Author:** PorscheDsgn  
  
**Warnings:** Not sure yet, but may will contain violence and maybe a few adult situations – nothing graphic, however, as well as some angst, some hurt/comfort...  
  
**Rating:** PG  
  
**Characters:** Joe, Vanessa, Nancy Drew... others to be determined...  
  
**Plot Blurb:** Joe learns that everything he knew about his brother Frank's death is not as it seems. If he learns the truth will he and his family be able to deal with it and cope with the consequences of everything that has happened?  
  
**Disclaimer:** The Hardy Boys are owned by the Stratemeyer Syndicate and Simon and Schuster. I promise to return the boys to their rightful owners when I'm done playing with them for a bit. I'll even put them back in one piece!  
  
**FYI:** This is the first story I have ever posted to the internet. I've been writing since I was twelve but haven't been brave enough (before now) to try to post a story. I hope everyone enjoys it and will leave me a review. I'm always interested in improving my writing skills.  
  
**August 3, 2004:** There was a little bit added to this chapter in various places since first uploaded. Please feel free to check it out.

* * *

Chapter One

* * *

Two-years, two months, twenty-four days.  
  
Several hours and several minutes.  
  
Joe Hardy sighed as he looked at the calendar sitting in front of him, mocking him. Two years, two months, twenty-four days. Days of grief, followed by days of loss and days of loneliness. Joe sighed as he brushed back his blonde hair and shook his head again, wishing – wishing – he'd done something to stop it. Wishing he'd been there to prevent it.  
  
Wishing he had done something, anything, to save his brother's life.  
  
"I'm sorry, Frank," Joe said, softly as he said everyday, regretting. The pain, sometimes dampened by busy days and friends and family, never totally went away. He felt that pain now, quite keenly.  
  
It was Frank's birthday. He would have been 21 today. Everyone deserved their twenty-first birthday, didn't they? Nobody should have to die when they were only eighteen.  
  
Joe shivered and closed his eyes. He saw the explosion again. Heard the cry that cut off in a sound of pain. Saw the inferno that had engulfed his brother whole and cut Frank off in the prime of his life. Joe vowed that day to find his brother's killers, to make them pay, to make sure that, no matter what else happened, they would never hurt another person again.  
  
Too bad it wasn't him that had eventually found Marcius Ras-Alman. The F.B.I had found him – and Joe had never seen his brother's killer, had not been able to attend whatever trial was held, did not, to this day, know of Ras-Alman's fate, despite several attempts by Joe and his father, Fenton Hardy, to discover the truth.  
  
Joe's life changed. He had found himself totally unable to become the detective that he and Frank always dreamed of being. It wasn't the same without Frank. He and Frank had been the best of teams. Frank, smart, intelligent in ways that scared Joe sometimes and Joe, the brawn of the group, willing and able to leap in where angels feared to tread. The ultimate yin and yang partnership ever conceived.  
  
A part of Joe died the day his brother died. Some days he was so angry he wanted to hurt something, or someone. He never did. Days like that he got into his brand new Corvette and drove it, sometimes at speeds too dangerous for the roads he was on, daring God to call him to task for it. When he couldn't drive anymore he stopped, usually somewhere that he could be alone, and cried, or sobbed, or yelled, or ranted, whatever he needed to cleanse the demons building up within him.  
  
Then he would go back to his life and start to live it again. College, working on a degree in law, something his mother approved of, something that somewhat disappointed his father. Fenton Hardy always dreamed of "Hardy and Sons Investigations" but there would be no sons now. Not without Frank.  
  
Joe wasn't going to be a detective without Frank, but he would be a lawyer. He'd find people like Ras-Alman and bury them – legally. One way or another, he would fight crime, but he was going to do it in a different a way. A way, he hoped, Frank would be proud of if he were here.  
  
"Joe?"  
  
Joe looked up, blue eyes meeting the concerned tawny-amber eyes of the woman who spoke to him and he smiled warmly while he reached out a hand in her direction. The blonde-haired young man pulled the young woman close and kissed her, eyes expressive in their desire and love for this tall beauty that stood beside him and he touched her cheek, gently.  
  
"Hi," he said. "When did you get back into town?"  
  
"Today," Vanessa Bender slid onto Joe's lap and kissed him before settling there and studying him. "Just a few minutes ago. That conference was dead boring; I wish I hadn't gone."  
  
Joe grinned as he stroked her cheek. "Really?"  
  
"Totally," she said. "I mean, I know it's for a grade but... everything in that conference I learned in high school. I'm supposed to be in advanced computer classes here and, instead, I have to deal with idiots who don't know ROM from RAM."  
  
Laughing, Joe kissed her again, welcoming her home more fully. He settled her on his lap and held her close; she rested her cheek against his and they snuggled for a few minutes. The anxiety of only moments before faded slightly; again it never quite went away. He felt better, though. Much better, actually.  
  
"You were thinking about Frank again, weren't you?" Vanessa asked, feeling much more at home in her lover's arms. "I could see it in your eyes."  
  
Joe shrugged, then nodded, not denying it. "I was," he admitted. "It's his birthday today."  
  
Vanessa agreed. "That's why I wanted to go ahead and get back here. I knew you'd need me."  
  
Joe smiled, hugging her more tightly. Joe gently stroked Vanessa's hair, as he held her in his arms. He snuggled against her cheek. "I love you, baby," he said. "I still can't believe he's gone, you know? I keep thinking I'll look up and he'll be standing there with that dopey smile on his face. "  
  
"I miss him too," Vanessa said, softly. She enjoyed a few caresses of her own, stroking Joe's neck with her hands before she kissed him again. "I know how hard it's been for you. I just wish I could make it easier."  
  
Joe laughed. "Baby, you are the only thing that makes any of this easier. If you weren't here, with me, I think I would have gone insane months ago. Years ago. I would have lost it, Van, I really would have."  
  
Van smiled, blushing slightly. "Well, maybe you would have, sweetheart, but I think you would have made it through without me. You're stronger than you think, you know."  
  
"Maybe," Joe said, dubiously "Maybe not."  
  
Van considered for a moment. "What do you want to do tonight? How about we go out to eat? Then we can go see your parents."  
  
"I... all right, that sounds fine," Joe agreed. "Let's get out of here. If I have to study one more case I'm going to turn into a manila folder.  
  
Vanessa laughed as she stood and pulled Joe to his feet. "Then let's go. I'm not dating a manila folder, no matter how much I might love him."

* * *

"Joseph Hardy!"  
  
Joe grinned at his mother as she ran out the door and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight before pulling him down to her level to kiss his cheek. The young man blushed slightly as he heard Vanessa's giggle and he fervently hoped that none of his friends chose that moment to drive by. It was really embarrassing for a guy in college to get kissed in public by his mom; at least it was for Joe!  
  
"Hi, mom," Joe returned his mother's hug, as he gently and carefully wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her tightly. "We've come in search of sustenance. I don't suppose you want to take pity on two wayward college students, who haven't had a decent meal in weeks, do you?"  
  
Laura Hardy laughed as she backed up away from Joe. Joe knew she wouldn't tell him but she really missed him when he was away at college. Granted, the school he went to was only across town but with him living in his own apartment, rather than at home, they didn't see each other nearly as often as they probably should and Joe felt slightly guilty about that.  
  
"I was hoping you would come today," Laura admitted softly as she led the way inside of the warm confines of the Hardy home on the corners of High and Elm Streets. "I thought maybe you would."  
  
"Yeah," Joe hooked an arm around Vanessa's shoulders and pulled her close. "I couldn't miss coming home today. It's... it's his day after all."  
  
Laura went quiet and Joe hoped he hadn't ruined her mood by mentioning Frank. She rarely talked about him now, choosing to grieve in private rather than in front of her son. Joe sometimes wished she would open up to him, so that they could grieve and talk it out together but he didn't force the issue with her.  
  
_She's hurting too,_ he thought. _As much today as she was back when it first happened. As much as I am.  
_  
Joe swallowed and fought for control again. He felt Vanessa grab his hand and hold it tightly. Joe turned to her and kissed the hand holding his own before turning back to his mom.  
  
"Hello, son," Fenton Hardy appeared at the bottom of the stairs that led to the second story and he hugged his son.  
  
"Hi, there, Dad, what's happening?" Joe asked.  
  
"Heard something about dinner," Fenton grinned. "And my stomach is reminding me I skipped lunch."  
  
"Been busy?" Joe swept Vanessa into the room and they went into the downstairs bathroom to wash their hands.  
  
"Working on a new case is all," Fenton said. "I had to make a lot of phone calls today, looks like I'll have to go out for some leg work tomorrow."  
  
"Just be careful, would ya, pop?" Joe studied his father for a moment. Fenton looked fit, now, but he had been in ill-health for a month after Frank's death. Joe feared, at the time, he would lose his father, too. Joe was grateful that Fenton was all right now, though and strong as ever.  
  
"Always," Fenton promised.  
  
"Come eat," Laura called out from the dining room. "Food's on the table."  
  
Dinner was companionable but still different. It had been since Frank's death, when it was obvious that there was something lacking at the table. Today being Frank's birthday made the loss more palpable, harder to ignore and harder to think about as well. The conversation occasionally lapsed off into silence as they all looked at the chair that had always been Frank's, so absent now without the oldest Hardy boy in it.  
  
"How's school coming?" Fenton asked as Laura served dessert; she'd made Frank's favorite, chocolate cake with vanilla frosting, topped with chocolate chips.  
  
"Good," Joe said. "I think I got A's on all my midterms. I'll let you know when I get the grades. That's why you haven't seen me much lately; I had major studying to do. And I have Vanessa to thank for the grades, too."  
  
Vanessa laughed. "No you don't. You're brilliant, Joe Hardy."  
  
"She quizzed me, tutored me, did flash cards, asked questions over and over again," Joe said. "I'm glad, too. It really helped."  
  
"You'll make a great lawyer, Joe," Laura told her son, proudly. "I know you will."  
  
Joe nodded and finished his slice of cake. "I didn't think I'd like being a lawyer, at first. I mean, think about it. All those facts and laws to memorize. But it's really more interesting than I thought it would be. And, well, it helps to have a goal."  
  
They all knew Joe's goal – to become a prosecutor. He wasn't going to go into law to help criminals get out of jail. He wanted to be responsible for putting them into jail.  
  
Fenton nodded and settled back in his chair, sipping on a glass of milk. He wiped his milk mustache with a napkin and studied his son.  
  
"Are you really happy, Joe?" Fenton asked.  
  
Joe studied his father, and then nodded. "As happy as I can be without Frank, Dad."  
  
Laura's tears welled up and Joe reached across the table to hold her hand, squeezing it as he stroked her long fingers.  
  
"I love you, mom. I know you miss him. You don't have to be afraid to tell us, you know that, don't you? We miss him, too. I think we will always miss him."  
  
"I just get so angry!" Laura exclaimed as her fist suddenly slammed onto the table. "I get so mad, I want to hurt something. To have him killed like that... he should be here, not dead!"  
  
Fenton got up and went around the table, drawing his wife into his arms. Joe and Vanessa watched them, with sad expressions on their faces. They hugged each other but Joe had no tears left for the evening. He might cry again later; or he might scream, or throw something, or hit something, but not now.  
  
"I'm sorry," Laura sniffed. "I'm sorry, Joe, Fenton, Vanessa. I didn't mean to break down."  
  
Joe got up, then and went to join his parents, holding them.  
  
"It's all right, mom. We'll get through it. The pain gets less. It may never go away but it gets easier to bear. That's what we have to remember – and remember that Frank wants us to be happy."  
  
The quiet moment lasted for several minutes, the three Hardys wrapped up in each other, basking in the love they had for each other – and mourning, again, the loss of the one that wasn't there.  
  
Finally, Laura squeezed both of her men and got up, letting them go as she did. Joe smiled and kissed her on the cheek and went back to Vanessa.  
  
"Love you, mom," he said, again, not caring if Vanessa heard him. At least she wouldn't make fun of him for saying it. "Love you, dad. Call me if you need anything, promise?"  
  
"Promise," Fenton and Laura said, together. They exchanged a smile with each other and laughed. "Go on, son," Fenton continued. "Have a good day at school tomorrow."  
  
"We will," Joe agreed. He put his arm around Vanessa's shoulders and went out of the house.

* * *

"That was a great night," Joe admitted as he walked with Vanessa toward her car. "Mom and Dad were really happy to see us."  
  
"Yeah, they were," Vanessa walked slowly beside him, content to enjoy the still warm evening. She looked upward at the stars shining down on them and then turned to Joe, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.  
  
"I've got to come visit more," Joe said. "I get so bus..."  
  
He was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. He turned slightly away from Vanessa, apologizing as he answered the phone.  
  
"Joe Hardy," he said.  
  
"If you want to learn more about Frank Hardy," the voice said on the other end. "Meet me at Porter Wharf in one half hour. If you aren't there, I'm leaving and taking my information with me."  
  
Joe's eyes went wide, then he protested. "Frank Hardy is dead. What kind of game are you playing?"  
  
"Is he?" the voice laughed. "Is he really dead, Joe Hardy? Or did someone want you to think he was dead. If you want to know, come. Come or you won't learn anything, and I'll be gone. If you want to know. Half Hour. Porter Wharf."  
  
The connection went dead and Joe stared up at Vanessa, repeating the conversation.  
  
"Joe," Vanessa said. "You aren't going to go are you?"  
  
Joe nodded and stood, brushing the pleats on his slacks until they were straight. He reached for his jacket and pulled It on, then swept Vanessa into his arms and kissed her.  
  
"Have to, love," he confessed. "Someone is playing games with me and they're going to pay."


	2. Chapter 2 The Meeting

Please see warnings in Chapter 1 and thank you for your feedback so far. I'm glad you like the story!

Disclaimer: The Hardy Boys are owned by the Stratemeyer Syndicate and Simon and Schuster. I promise to return the boys to their rightful owners when I'm done playing with them for a bit. I'll even put them back in one piece!

Updated: August 4, 2004

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

The memories flashed through Joe's mind as he drove through the Bayport streets, his mind seeing them as vividly today as he had two years ago. The younger Hardy always thought, if any of them died in reckless move, it would be him. Frank, always levelheaded, always strong, always thinking and planning many moves ahead, always thought before he acted.  
  
Except for once. Once, and that had been at the cost of his life.

* * *

_"He's in there," Frank's voice broke the silence as he looked away from the binoculars he stared through to peer sideways at Joe and Joe sighed, frowning at his brother's obviousness. Joe resisted the urge to say 'no duh' to his brother, as he picked up his own binoculars and peered through them, seeing the shadow of a man crossing in front of the windows of the upper stories of the old house on the outskirts of Bayport.  
  
"Good, let's go get him," Joe lowered his binoculars and reached to open his door, only to be stopped by his brother.  
  
"Not yet," Frank said. "We need a plan first."  
  
Joe rolled his eyes and wished Frank would just get on with it for once. As much as he loved his brother, he hated it when Frank constantly stopped to think and plan and plod along like they had all the time in the world. This time, though, the clock was against them. They had exactly twenty minutes to stop Marcius Ras-Alman from his plan, which meant capturing, finding his triggering device and getting it away from him before he blew up most of the waterfront.  
  
The police were now scouring the waterfront for the myriad of bombs planted all over but both Hardy brothers knew that the time was against him and that there was not enough police or enough time to get to all the bombs at once.  
  
"You plan," Joe said to his brother. "I'll act."  
  
Frank grabbed Joe's arm again, stopping the younger Hardy brother from moving. Joe rolled his eyes and twisted to get free but Frank dug in, holding more tightly to Joe to keep him from leaving the car.  
  
"Just give me a minute, Joe," Frank said. "What if he has more bombs in there, huh? What if he's planning to blow this place up after he leaves? If he does have the triggering mechanism in there, we have to be careful. He could set it off before we have a chance to stop him."  
  
Joe sighed and nodded. "And we still have... nineteen minutes."  
  
Frank nodded. "All right, then, let's do it this way. You go..."  
  
Frank stopped talking as something he saw in the house caught his eye. Joe looked to see what stopped him and, as he heard Frank open his door and sprint toward the house, he saw what stopped his brother; the silhouette of a woman in an upper window, hands obviously bound behind her back, face stark with terror.  
  
"Frank, wait!" Joe called out as he opened his car door.  
  
It was too late though. As he saw Ras-Alman running around the side of the house, moving swiftly toward a van parked in the front of the house, Frank opened the door leading into the house.  
  
It blew only moments later, sending sparks and fire shooting up into the sky overhead. Joe stood, staring, eyes wide with astonishment, before his feet acted independently and he raced toward the burning house.  
  
"FRANK!" he screamed, yelling his brother's name. "FRANK!"  
  
The flames jetted higher as the van carrying Ras-Alman sped off into the night. Joe raced toward the house, getting as close as he dared, feeling the intense heat searing the skin of his face. He tried to get closer but the heat kept him back.  
  
Not again, he thought despairingly. Not again, please, God, don't let me lose another one.  
  
Everyday Joe remembered Iola, his first girlfriend, going up in flames in their car outside of the mall, in a bomb meant for Joe and Frank. And now another, lost to a terrorist bent on destruction.  
  
No, he mentally begged. NO. No, no, no!  
  
Things after that were a blur for him. He remembered fire trucks. He remembered someone pushing him back. He remembered voices talking to him, asking him questions he couldn't possibly understand since they didn't seem to be speaking English to him. Everything had become numb for him and he'd finally fallen, his legs no longer able to hold him up. He heard more sirens, heard a familiar voice asking him if he was OK and answering.  
  
He saw Con Riley then and saw Con's face moving but Joe couldn't hear anything the police officer asked him. He kept staring at the house where his brother had been.  
  
"F-Frank," he stammered finally. "They h-have to find F-Frank."  
  
Con stared at him and Joe met Con's gaze. Joe's eyes were wide with shock and disbelief and fear. He looked back toward the house.  
  
"Frank was there. Have to get him out, Con. Have to."  
  
Joe struggled to his feet again and started to run forward, only to be caught by his friend and held back.  
  
"You can't go in there, Joe," Con said. The first thing Joe understood since Con asked him if he was all right.  
  
"Frank's in there!" Joe screamed. "I have to go. I can't lose him, too! I can't, Con. I have to go in there. You have to let me go in there!"  
  
"NO. Joe! Stop fighting me or I'm going to handcuff you and lock you in my squad. Right now, Joe!"  
  
Joe gawked at Con, for only a moment, then sagged back, tears springing to his eyes. He was surprised to see tears coming from Con, too and let the older man hug him.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Joe," Con said. "You know... you know there's no way he could have survived that, don't you? You know that."  
  
Joe shook his head in denial. "He has to be alive, Con. He has to be. I have to go look. Let me go!"  
  
Joe struggled, again, valiantly trying to break free of his older friend to go and save his brother's life. He wasn't going to lose Frank to Ras-Alman, he wasn't.  
  
"Joe, stop it!" Con ordered again. "Stop it!"  
  
"Con," Joe felt the tears building, tears he didn't want to give into. "I can't lose him. I can't. He's my brother. My best friend. Please, let me go look."  
  
"I'm so sorry, Joe," Con whispered back to him. "I really am sorry."  
  
Joe stopped struggling and slumped again, letting Con draw him farther back from the scene of the fire.  
  
It was later they got the word that Frank died in the fire and, with him, Callie Shaw. It had been an incredible blow, to lose not only his brother, but also his brother's girlfriend. Joe knew that had been what had caused Frank to act so recklessly, to dive into the house without stopping to consider the options, as he had been about to do.  
  
And the pain of that day was still with Joe._

_

* * *

_  
"Which is why I'm going where angels fear to tread," Joe thought as he steered his Corvette toward the marina. The Wharf he was going to, Porter Wharf, was an old, dilapidated building in a not so good side of town. Joe knew going there, at this time of the night, by himself, was every bit as foolish as Vanessa thought but Joe couldn't help himself. Just the thought that he might find out something about Frank were the magic words anyone needed to get to Joe.  
  
_Still,_ he thought with some sense of urgency, I_ have to find out if there's something I don't know. I don't... I can't ignore this.  
_  
Joe sighed and brushed back his hair again, getting it out of his eyes so he could see the road better. The lane he drove along twisted and curved with the contours of the bay itself and sometimes it was too narrow for two cars to pass. Finally, though, he pulled up outside of the wharf and stopped, turning off his car and climbing out.  
  
"Over here," a voice called from nearby. Joe couldn't see the person talking to him but he heard the voice clearly enough. Joe walked slowly, cautiously, ready to do battle if he had to but finally saw the man standing underneath the large Elm tree situated near the side of the wharf.  
  
"Who are you and what do you want?" Joe asked, going on the defensive as he studied the other man. It was hard to tell in the dark shadows just what the man looked like; the other man was being careful to stay in the shadows, out of the light itself.  
  
"My name isn't important, what is is what I know," the man said. "I've got news for you, if you want to hear it."  
  
"What's in it for you?" Joe asked. If this were an informant or something, he'd want something.  
  
"I don't want anything," the man said. "Except to pass along what I know and clear my conscience."  
  
"And what do you know?" Joe asked, warily.  
  
"This," the man said. He handed Joe a small packet. "Open that when you are back home. Just know this. Everything you thought you knew about your brother's death is wrong, Joe Hardy. Everything. This packet will explain it in more detail but here's what I have to say, exactly.  
  
"Go to River Heights. Find the girl named Nancy Drew and show her the pictures inside of the envelope. She will know what to do.  
  
"That's all I can say. I have to go."  
  
"WAIT!" Joe exclaimed, springing forward. "Wait, you can't just lay a bomb on me like this and leave. What do you know, exactly? Why are you being so mysterious? Just come out and say it."  
  
"I've said all I can say, Joe," the man said. "Now, go. And, Joseph, hurry. Time is of the essence. Go."  
  
The man turned and, with a swirl of a long trench coat, was gone.  
  
Joe looked down at the packet in his hands and back up at the shadows where the man disappeared, torn between the desire to tear the packet open immediately and chasing down the man to pummel more news out of him. He hated games. He hated this spy stuff and he hated people playing games with him. Joe suspected the man 'helping him' was doing all three.  
  
"All right," he sighed as he went back to his Corvette. "Let's see where this takes us."  
  
End Chapter Two 


	3. Chapter 3 The Packet

Authors Notes: Joe is majoring in pre-law right now; he's not actually in law school yet. Vanessa Bender was the character that appeared in the later Hardy Boys Casefiles as a new girlfriend for Joe after Iola was killed in the first book of the series. Iola was killed by a car bomb meant for Joe and Frank.  
  
Other than that, well, all I can say is there will be a lot of relationship stuff in this story. I think I prefer that as well. I may not, however, always dive inside of a character's head every chapter but I'll do it when it makes the most sense to me. Thanks again!

* * *

Chapter Three

* * *

Joe stared at the packet sitting on the passenger seat as he drove back through the small, windy, street back to the main road that would eventually lead him back to his apartment.  
  
_Why do I need to go see Nancy?_ he wondered. _What does she have to do with all of this? Has she been holding out on me? That's as likely as the sun turning purple and rising in the west. Nancy wouldn't keep something involving Frank from me, I'm sure of that.  
_  
It looked innocuous, this packet of papers. He'd seen many like them during the years he investigated cases with Frank and most of the time they never threatened him personally. This one, however, threatened him in more ways than one. It threatened to bring out the demons he felt inside, the ones that came out when he missed Frank too much, and the ones that were, for the most part, buried.  
  
_I can't do this,_ Joe thought as he looked at the packet. _I can't unearth everything I've buried. I can't. I've buried Frank once. I've finally started to let go of looking for him a thousand times a day, or asking him a question that he obviously can't answer because he's not here anymore. I don't want to keep reopening old wounds.  
_  
Despite it all, though, Joe knew he would open the can of worms if it meant finding out the truth about his brother's death. Joe wondered again who the man was; he hadn't seen the other man's face, at all. The man had kept to the shadows, his face shielded by the lack of lighting on the backside of the wharf.  
  
Joe pulled back into his parking space near his apartment building and sat in his car, leaning back and closing his eyes. He needed the energy the respite gave him, energy to get him out of the car and inside, looking through whatever was inside of the envelope. He glanced at his watch; the lighted dial said 11:30 P.M. He thought it would be much later than that, it felt like years had passed since he'd left home.  
  
Leaning forward and propping his head on his steering wheel, Joe reached into the passenger seat and pulled the envelope toward him, holding it for a moment before sliding the clasp open and pulling out the items within the envelope.

_Go inside to do this, Hardy,_ Joe thought to himself.  
  
_I don't want this inside the house, he answered a moment later, and then hit himself on the head. Quit answering your own stupid thoughts, Hardy. You're really cracking up here!  
_  
Joe sighed and turned on his dome light and gazed at the three items. The first was an old, faded, newspaper clipping from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, announcing the wedding of a man named James Fleming to a young woman named Diana Patrelli. The picture was not very good; the faces of the man and woman were blotted out, maybe from having gotten wet before.  
  
The second item was a picture of a small villa; Joe wasn't sure of the style, whether it was Italian or Greek or whatever, but it looked like what he thought of as a villa; a bungalow inside of a gated fence. He didn't know enough about architecture to know what style of villa it was, though. Maybe Nancy would know that.  
  
The third item was a teardrop shaped amethyst on single, silver chain. Joe let the chain slide through his fingers until he caught the stone in his hand and held it, gazing at it.  
  
_I have no idea what all this means; I guess that's what I'm meant to find out, but what does Nancy have to do with this?_ Joe sighed and peered closely at the chain again._ No markings, nothing to identify the piece, at least not to me. Maybe it means something to Nancy. And who are these people? James Fleming and Diana Patrelli? That makes no sense to me.  
_  
Joe shook his head and looked over the news clipping again. He finally shut off the light in his car and put everything back in the envelope, before going back up to his apartment. He sat the packet of papers onto the dining room table and went into his bedroom.

* * *

_"What do you think of Nancy Drew, Joe?"  
  
Joe glanced over at his brother to find Frank staring out the window of their house in Bayport at the woman who stood on the front lawn with Joe's girlfriend, Vanessa and Frank's girlfriend Callie, laughing about something.  
  
Joe peered cautiously at his brother and frowned, wondering just what had gotten into his normally levelheaded brother. The older Hardy boy normally kept his feet firmly planted on the ground but the expression on his face, if Callie could see it, would get his face smacked but hard.  
  
"She's nice enough," Joe said. "Smart. The only girl I'd trust on a case. She may be smarter than you, bro, what do you think of that?"  
  
Joe grinned when his brother's expression left the window to look at Joe. Joe stuck his tongue out at Frank and turned his expression back to the window, watching Vanessa.  
  
"She's really nice," Frank said. "And, you're right. She's really smart. I keep thinking if I weren't dating Callie, you know... it might be fun to get together with Nancy – if she weren't dating Ned."  
  
"But she is and you are so the point's moot, right?" Joe asked. He remembered entirely too many days when Frank derided him about his 'flavor of the week' and it amused Joe to see Frank in the same position.  
  
"Yeah," Frank said, wistfully. "It's fun to think about though."  
  
Joe nodded. "And dangerous, too. You forget, your girlfriend has a temper."  
  
"I suppose," Frank agreed. "I also suppose I'd better be careful, huh? No, you know I won't cheat on Callie but..."  
  
Frank sighed. Joe wondered what the 'but' was. Was Frank really thinking about trying to get together with Nancy? Joe didn't think it possible, that his brother would lose his devotion to Callie Shaw, thorn in Joe's side.  
  
Then again, people change, as they get older, Joe thought. I suppose it's possible for Frank to change too. It's just scary to see first hand!  
  
Joe laughed and chucked his brother under the chin, then went back to watching the girls on the front lawn. He swallowed nervously when Vanessa looked right at him, winked and beckoned to him with an upturned finger.  
  
"Er, see you later, dude," Joe said as he got out of his chair. "Beauty calls."  
  
Frank made a clucking sound as Joe went through the door._

_

* * *

_Joe woke up, blinking, the memory still fresh in his mind and glanced at his bedside clock, noting that it was almost 5 am and wondering why he had dreamed that particular scene from his life. He remembered that day vividly; the Hardys and Nancy had just come off of an arduous case, looking for a kidnapped child, and Nancy was spending a few days with the Hardys before going home to her family.  
  
Joe sighed as he got up and padded into the kitchen, putting on a pot of coffee before going into the bathroom to take his morning shower. He came out a few minutes later, towel-drying his hair and crossing back into the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee before sitting down at the table to drink the coffee.  
  
The packet sat there, daring him to do something about it. Joe glowered at the packet and turned away, getting up to get his newspaper from in front of the door and going into the living room to read it and drink his coffee. He didn't need to deal with mysteries at five am, especially when he was no longer a detective.  
  
_Sports section,_ Joe decided with glee as he pulled the paper open and found his favorite section. _Time to learn about something totally painless, unless, of course, the Comets got destroyed again last night.  
_  
Joe spent an hour pouring over the paper, reading the sports section, the comics, some of the news section and even some of the arts and entertainment section, though he really only skimmed that last section. Most of it talked about stuff he had no interest in at all, but it was nice to see what movies were out and maybe check on a play or two to bring Vanessa to see.  
  
Joe spent another hour getting his apartment picked up and picking out clothes for the day. He technically had classes to go to that day but, until he talked to Nancy about going to see her, or Nancy coming to see him, he didn't want to deal with his classes. He had a perfect attendance record so far; he doubted that his teachers would panic if he didn't show up once.  
  
_Especially when my classmates skip classes all the time,_ he thought. _And I can do without my early morning "Criminal Psychology" class, this morning. Doctor Donham has the worst monotone voice; I'm surprised I'm ever able to stay awake!  
_  
Joe sighed with satisfaction as he took out his reading assignments for the day and poured over them again, wanting to make sure the information was fresh in his mind since he wasn't going to go to class. He knew people he could get notes from; he'd call them later and see about copying them.  
  
"Ok, Hardy, time to get going," he said out loud. "Go call Nancy. Sure it's an hour earlier where she lives but she'll live."  
  
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the still familiar number, letting the phone ring until Hannah Gruen, the Drew's housekeeper, picked it up on the other end of the line.  
  
"Hannah, this is Joe Hardy," Joe said into the phone. "May I please speak to Nancy? Is she home?"  
  
"She was home a few minutes ago, Joe," Hannah said. "I'm afraid I just heard her pull out. Is there something I can do for you?"  
  
Joe considered for a moment. "I need to come out there and talk to her about something. Is she going to be in town for the weekend? I can be there this evening."  
  
"I think so, Joe," Hannah said. "But Joe, you should know something."  
  
"What's that?" Joe wondered if he was doing something wrong by calling; Hannah sounded awfully nervous.  
  
"Nancy isn't taking cases right now. If you need to work with her on something, well, I'm afraid she won't do it."  
  
Joe's eyes widened with shock.  
  
"She's not taking cases? But why?"  
  
Hannah sighed and Joe settled back into a chair; he just knew this was going to be a long story.  
  
"Ned left her," Hannah said. "They were working on their wedding plans, actually had the day set and had just about everything organized. Nancy ordered everything she needed; her dress, invitations, bridesmaids' dresses and the like, then she got called away for a case. She went to go take care of it but while she was gone, Ned left. He said that cases were always going to come between them and that she loved being a detective more than she loved him.  
  
"She was back in plenty of time for the wedding but Ned didn't seem to care. He left. Nancy was... she was devastated."  
  
Joe felt devastated for his friend. Nancy was a great girl; if he wasn't already committed, he might see himself falling for her – if his brother hadn't been so attracted to her.  
  
_I wonder what went through Ned's head. Is he that much of an idiot?  
_  
"Anyway, Nancy is taking a break from it all," Hannah explained. "She said she's not going to stop being a detective permanently but she needs a break from it. So far, she's been taking that break for six months and nobody has been able to entice her to take a case. I wanted you to be aware of that before you come here."  
  
Joe sighed. He'd stopped being a detective because he lost Frank, Nancy stopped because she lost Ned.  
  
_Ned's a first-class idiot is what Ned is,_ Joe glumly thought. _If he didn't realize what he had when he had Nancy, he doesn't deserve her. I hope Nancy realizes that.  
_  
"I just need to show her a couple of things and talk to her about them," Joe said. "She doesn't have to take a case of any kind, just give me some advice. Think she'll be up to that?"  
  
"I think so," Hannah sounded relieved. "I'll be sure to let her know that you're coming. You're more than welcome to spend the night here if you need to, don't worry about a hotel."  
  
Joe sighed with relief and smiled as he relaxed again. "Thank you, Hannah, I really appreciate that. I'll call you when I get to the airport in River Heights so you know I'm on the way to your house. Tell Nancy and Mr. Drew I said hi and I'll see them later."  
  
"I will, Joe," Hannah said. "Good-bye."  
  
"Good-bye."  
  
Joe hung up and sat the phone back down on his dining room table, thinking.  
  
_I can't believe Ned left Nancy. What is the world coming to these days? He knew what her life's calling was, knew what she wanted to be her whole life. If he's done this to her, I'm going to find him and slug him!  
_  
_But until then,_ he thought. _I have my own task to accomplish. Time to go to River Heights. _


	4. Chapter 4 Nancy Drew

The flight to Chicago from New York passed uneventfully, allowing Joe plenty of time both to look through the packet of information again and to consider what he would tell Nancy Drew when he finally saw her. A vivacious titian haired woman, smarter than just about anyone that Joe knew except maybe Frank, Joe admitted to himself that he'd once had a little crush on her. Something about her spoke to both brothers but Joe never seriously considered his own crush except for what it was – the infatuation of a younger boy for an older girl.

Anyone with brains would be in love with Nancy Drew – at least for a few minutes.

Joe sighed and leaned against the window to look out over the growing skyline of Chicago, Illinois. In the distance, well away from where he would eventually land at O'Hare airport, he saw the towering skyscrapers – the Sears Tower and the Hancock Building, along with a myriad of others whose names he didn't know. Beyond them to the east was the sparkling waters of Lake Michigan where he could make out growing dots that represented boaters or parasailers, all out enjoying the beautiful, sun-filled day. Joe looked away from the window as the plane began to drop lower and lower until, finally, the wheels let out a screech as they came into contact with the asphalt below.

Once he could move, Joe grabbed the bag he brought and rushed down the gangway toward the gate entrance. He wasn't sure if anyone would meet him or if he would have to persuade the rental agency his dad normally used to let a 20-year-old behind the wheel of a car. Normally he carried a special voucher that he could use to rent cars even from the most surly of car rental agencies but he'd been in too big a hurry that afternoon to grab the one he normally carried.

Well, if he had to, he'd take an overpriced taxi to the Chicago suburb of River Heights. It wasn't money that was the issue, after all, it was expediency.

"Hardy!" a friendly voice shouted to him as he cleared the escalator that took him up to the baggage claim area where he could find an exit from the airport. "Over here!"

Joe turned and found himself facing the woman he had come to see. Nancy Drew smiled brightly at him as she raced forward and enveloped Joe in a huge hug. Joe returned the hug before he stood back to study his old friend. Nancy looked just as she always did, vivacious, hair styled just-so, wearing the latest in fashionable clothing but in her blue eyes there was something else.

Pain. The same pain he saw when he looked into his mother's eyes and knew she thought about Frank.

"So, Drew, what's going on with you?" Joe asked in a friendly voice. "Hannah said she wasn't sure you would make it here to pick me up and yet, here you are, beautiful as ever."

Nancy shrugged and led the way out of the airport toward the parking area and toward her dark blue convertible located in the parking garage across from the terminal.

"I'm fine," Nancy finally answered after she and Joe were both seated. She put her seatbelt on and smiled at Joe again. "Really, Joe. I've just… needed some time to get my head back on straight. Ned really messed me up there for a bit. I guess I don't really blame him for getting so angry and that doesn't help matters at all."

"You're a great detective, Nan," Joe commented. "And you can't let anyone take that away from you, not Ned, not your dad, not anyone."

"And what about you?" Nancy asked Joe pointedly. "You were a great detective too."

Joe shook his head in denial. "No, no, I wasn't. I was part of a great detective TEAM. I am not a great detective on my own and I know it."

Nancy snorted and steered the car out of the parking garage and toward one of the booths that would allow her to pay the outrageous parking fee.

"You're selling yourself short, Joe," she commented a few moments later, when they were finally back on the tollway. "You are most certainly a good detective. You always were."

Joe sighed and heaved his shoulders. "All right, then," he said. "I don't have the heart for it anymore, all right? It's not… it's not fun without Frank."

"Ah," was Nancy's only response. They sat quietly as Nancy continued to drive them toward her house in River Heights.

"So what did you bring?" Nancy broke the silence ten minutes later.

"I'll tell you when we get stopped," Joe said. "I don't want to distract you while we're among the sterling citizens who turn insane in the traffic around here."

Nancy laughed. "And you think New York drivers are any better?"

"Of course not!" Joe retorted. "But at least they aren't insane!"

Nancy laughed yet again and turned a grin in Joe's direction. "I missed you, Hardy. We have to get together more often."

"I agree and we will, as much as school allows."

Nearly twenty minutes later Nancy parked her car in the parking lot of the modest older house that she shared with her father and their housekeeper, Hannah Gruen. Nancy led the way inside of the house and led Joe into her father's office.

Joe silently handed her the pictures to look at, before explaining what he'd been told by the man at the docks.

"And he said I know something about this?" Nancy asked incredulously. "Really?"

"Really," Joe took the pictures back and spread them over the desk. "Do you recognize any of these things?"

Nancy chewed on her bottom lip as she studied the newspaper report of the wedding and looked at the ceiling for a moment, thinking.

"The name IS familiar," she agreed. "I just… wait!"

Nancy pulled out a magnifying glass to study the excerpt more closely.

"Bloody hell, Joe," Nancy looked up at her friend, shock on her face. "Look at the ring the man's wearing!"

Joe took the magnifying glass and studied the picture more closely, then looked back up at Nancy, the blood draining from his face.

"Frank…"


	5. Chapter 5 Tracing the Clues

"Are you sure, Joe?"

Nancy studied the ring that the man was wearing. It was one of the few truly visible items in the whole article since the faces were blackened out too much to be identifiable. She'd seen it before, though, which is what alerted it to her in the first place. It was a simple pinky ring but with a unique, Celtic knotwork design on it.

"That's the ring that mom got us when she and dad were in Ireland," Joe affirmed. He held up his own hand where he was wearing his ring. "She got them because the knotwork stands for brotherhood, for close ties amongst family. I didn't even notice it."

"Why don't we dig around in the paper archives and see if we can't find this picture somewhere else? It says they were married in Wichita Kansas, right? So we could look in papers for that area and see if we can't find something where we can see their faces."

Joe nodded, feeling suddenly dry in the mouth. He set the newspaper article back down and leaned back, shaking, in his seat.

"Are you going to be okay, Joe?" Nancy asked him, sincerity in her voice. "I haven't seen you so… shook up… before."

"I just don't want to get my hopes up, Nan," Joe admitted. He looked away from the picture and toward the window that overlooked the front lawn of the Drew home. "I've had dreams, you know, where I see him and he's alive. Then I wake up in the morning and… it's like I have to lose him all over again. I know it scares Vanessa because I yell his name in my sleep."

Nancy nodded. "I've had dreams like that too," she admitted, softly. "Sometimes I swear I can see him in the distance but when I get closer, it's not him, just someone who has the same general features.

"Let's make a promise to each other, here and now, that if either of us get too deep into this search that we'll both pull out. There's no telling if this guy really is Frank or if it's something else. But, for both our sakes, we need to maintain an emotional distance from the case. Can we do that?"

Joe thought about it, really thought about it and nodded. "I can try," he vowed. "And I will. So what's first, oh great detective?"

Nancy laughed. "Computer search."

She sat down at her father's computer and booted it up, logged into it and went immediately to the Internet where she began of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. Joe looked over her shoulder as she zipped through several different screens, calling up all kinds of past wedding announcements.

"I don't think it goes back far enough," Nancy sighed. "At least not this one. Why don't you call this paper and see if can fax us a copy of the picture? I'll keep it up on this end in case I'm missing something.

"Got it," Joe pulled out his own cell phone and dialed the number that Nancy gave him. It took him several minutes to explain what he wanted and why, but finally the person on the other end of the line agreed to find the archived picture and to fax a copy to Mr. Drew's fax machine.

Joe peered over Nancy's shoulder some more as she continued to zip through various web pages, reading through several wedding notices and announcements before the fax machine buzzed and a sheet of paper began to shoot through it. Joe reached for it, almost eagerly, and studied the picture.

"Damn!" he exclaimed a moment later.

"What is it?" Nancy asked as she looked up at him.

"You can't see his face, just hers. He's turned sideways, with his back almost turned to the camera."

"What do you think, though?" Nancy asked.

Joe frowned as he studied the picture a little more.

"Well," he confessed. "The man has the same color hair – or at least it's dark, like Frank's. He's got the same general build as well and what little I can see of his face… I'm just not positive. I don't know if I will be until we find this guy and question him."

"Let's do a people search," Nancy suggested. "Then from there we can decide where to go next. We may need to go to St. Louis ourselves – or wherever they're living. Let me see the rest of the items in that packet you got."

Joe handed her the envelope while he continued to study the picture. To be so close to finding out and yet still so far… it hurt. He wished he could see the man's face. One look and he would know for sure who he was.

"The woman is definitely not Callie, though," Joe muttered.

"What?" Nancy asked, distracted.

"The woman in the picture isn't Callie," Joe explained. "I don't know her."

"Oh," was Nancy's only response. She held the amethyst necklace in one hand and was holding it up to the light.

"I know this," she said, softly.

"What?" it was Joe's turn to be distracted but he looked at her.

"I've seen this before," Nancy said. "The chain and the amethyst pendant too. It was at a party a few months ago. A woman was wearing it…"

Nancy snatched the picture from Joe's hands and held it up with the amethyst. "It was her!" she exclaimed. "But she wasn't with anyone and she wasn't married. And her name wasn't Diana Petrilli either."

Nancy rubbed at her head as she tried to remember.

"It was Miriam. Miriam Alman…"

Ras-Alman!


	6. Chapter 6 Taking A Chance

Taking a Chance Chapter 6

"Taking a Chance"

"Ras-Alman," Joe whispered again, not aware that he had already said the name just a moment before. His hands shook badly enough that he had to set both the amethyst and the photo back down onto the desk before he dropped them and he fell back, hard, into the seat behind him and closed his eyes.

The face of his arch-nemesis rose before him, handsome, regal and cunningly cruel as well. Responsible for so much hurt, and for the deaths of so many, Joe felt his fingers itching to go around the man's neck, to rid him of the life he didn't deserve to live!

Joe rubbed a hand over his face and inhaled, sharply, trying to erase the vision with those simple actions and, when he blinked his eyes a few times, Ras-Alman's face disappeared, replaced by Nancy's.

"Joe, are you all right?" Nancy asked. "Talk to me, Joe."

"I'm fine, just fine," Joe gasped. "I'm really fine."

Joe shuddered though, and rocked back and forth, a chill creeping slowly up his back. He sprang to his feet, agitated, and paced back and forth, fighting back the chills and other emotions he fought back everyday since Frank's death two years before.

"Sorry," he apologized to Nancy. "It's just every time I hear or say that name, I see him. I can see the dreams I've had about him, where he's taunting me about Frank's death. I can hear him in my mind, telling me that he killed Frank and there's nothing I can do about it."

Another chill caused Joe's shoulders to shake again but he managed to fight it down and calm as well.

"Does she look like the girl you knew?" he motioned to the wedding announcement on the computer monitor. "Does Diana Patrelli look like Miriam Ras-Alman?"

Nancy sat down in the chair beside the computer again and stared at the picture, studying it intently. Finally, she nodded.

"I hadn't thought about it before, but she does. You have to remember I didn't talk to her for more than a minute and I was looking at the necklace, not the face."

Nancy paused and touched the computer monitor again, peering intently at the man in the picture.

"I really think we need to find them," Nancy said to Joe. "Both of them. We have enough circumstantial evidence now to make some pretty solid conclusions and I think we should do our best to track them down."

Joe nodded his agreement. "Let's start with that people search that you wanted to run," he suggested.

Nancy agreed and began tapping into the computer, calling up a program from her father's database that would allow her into a special program. She typed in the names she needed and used them to locate "James and Diana Fleming" and "James Fleming and Diana Patrelli."

Without their current social security numbers the search wasn't as precise as she would have liked but the report did log the address for a James and Diana Fleming located in St. Charles, Missouri.

"That's a suburb of St. Louis, I think," Nancy said.

"Here, I have a map," Joe said. He pulled out an atlas he had seen in Mr. Drew's books and spread it out over the table. What he found agreed with Nancy's guess – St. Charles was a western suburb of St. Louis, Missouri, located on the western side of the Missouri river.

"Do we just head there now?" Nancy asked. Joe saw a hint of anxiety in her eyes – and hope as well.

Joe thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. "No," he said. "We have to bring proof with us. Proof that this man is Frank, if it's true. Proof that the woman is Miriam Alman would help as well. Do you think that's her real name?"

Nancy shook her head. "I don't know. We'll find out, though. One way or another."

Joe smiled at her and stood. "I'm going to call my dad," he said. "And tell him what we've found out so far. I can trust him not to have a complete breakdown when I tell him all this stuff. I'll have him send me Frank's fingerprint records along with his passport and a few other personal pictures we have of him."

Nancy said nothing for a moment and Joe, when he looked at her, saw her chewing on her lower lip.

"What?" he asked.

"What if he's undercover?" Nancy asked.

Joe blinked his eyes a few times and shook his head, hard.

"Undercover? Without telling me about it? Going so far as to marry this woman and stuff like that? Why?"

Nancy shrugged. "He could be deep undercover. Maybe he's working for the Network."

"There's no way," Joe said. "Ras-Alman knows him. If he's married to Ras-Alman's daughter, it's because there's something wrong. Amnesia or something like that."

"I don't know, Joe," Nancy said. "What if he's faking it? You know he can do stuff like that, especially if he wants revenge for Callie's death."

Joe sighed and fidgeted with a pen for a few seconds before he sat up. "No," he said. "I think there's more to it than that. I honestly think, even if he were deep undercover, he would find out some way to tell me. I don't know what the issue is right now, but I'm going to find out what it is. Now are you going with me or not?"

Nancy smiled and nodded. "I'm in."

"Good," Joe said and he pulled his cell phone from his pocket to call home.

"Dad, this is Joe," he said. "Look, something's come up. You won't believe what we've found out…"


	7. Chapter 7 The Face of My Brother

Taking A Chance Chapter 7

"The Face of My Brother"

Joe hung the phone up carefully and sat back in his seat, closing his eyes. Reopening wounds for his father had been no easier than it would have been for his mother and he should have known it. Fenton had listened, however, and agreed that there was maybe something to all the clues Joe and Nancy put together. It was more than Joe would have gotten from his mother.

One thing Joe and his father agreed on was keeping this case from Joe's mother unless he did find Frank. While Laura Hardy possessed her own calm demeanor and inner strength, Joe hated the idea of seeing that pain-filled expression on her face. Nobody liked losing a child, especially their first-born.

And Joe would make certain that no one caused Laura Hardy anymore pain if he had any power over it at all.

"Your dad okay?" Nancy asked, interrupting Joe's thoughts. "What did he say?"

"He doesn't like it," Joe admitted to Nancy. "But he agreed to send us what we want. He's sending it overnight but it may not be here until Monday."

Nancy shrugged and turned back to her computer. "That will give us more time to do the paper trails and get a solid plan of action in place. Not that I don't want to rush in, Joe," she said rapidly when she saw the expression on Joe's face. "But we need to make sure we know what we're doing before we go do it."

Joe sighed impatiently but nodded in agreement to her plan. "I guess I haven't quite gotten over the rush in first, ask questions later, impulses," he admitted sheepishly, as he ran a hand through his blonde curls. "I've got to work on that."

"I agree," Nancy smiled and clicked a few more buttons on the keyboard. "I'm going to try to find a picture of James Fleming – a front view of him if possible. Just to make sure, you know? I'm thinking about doing something I haven't tried before."

"What's that?"

"Hacking into a DMV database," she admitted. "It's not something someone should do lightly. I was thinking, though, that we could see his license picture, if he has one logged in Missouri."

"Do you really think you can do that?" Joe asked.

Nancy cocked an eyebrow and Joe smiled. "Of course you can," he stated calmly. "Why don't you get on that, then?"

It was quiet in the den for a while as Nancy worked, the only sound coming from her tapping of the keys. Joe, using his laptop computer, googled some pictures of St. Charles, hoping to find a house that matched the house in the photo he had been sent. Joe wondered if the house was even the one James and Diana Fleming lived in, or if it was something else.

"Who do you think the man was that contacted you?" Nancy asked, breaking the silence a few minutes later. "The guy who gave you the package?"

"No idea," Joe admitted. He stood and walked to the window that overlooked the Drew's front yard, feeling suddenly restless. "I keep going back to that, too. Who is he and what does he have to gain by helping me find Frank? I keep wondering if this is all just some grand game of his that he's putting us through."

"Someone that we both know?" Nancy regarded him intently. "Who?"

"I don't know!" Joe started to anxiously pace around the confined space of the den. "I don't. I keep thinking I'm running into things that I shouldn't be. It's stupid, Nan, it really is. I want to believe Frank is alive and I don't want to believe it. I want to look for him and I don't, because if this is a hoax and he's not alive, I'm going to lose it."

Nancy got up and walked over to Joe, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe we should stop here," she suggested softly. "Maybe this is where we say enough is enough and go back to our lives."

Joe insistently shook his head. "I can't," he whispered. "I can't live with not knowing. If I don't look it'll hurt as much as if I do and he's not alive. I know we promised each other to stop if we got too emotionally involved but I would sooner cut off my arm."

Nancy sighed but nodded. "I feel the same way, Joe," she said, softly. "So we'll keep on doing this."

They both jumped when the computer beeped and Nancy went back over to it. "Oh, wow, I'm in!" she exclaimed.

She sifted through a thousand records quickly by typing in the last name Fleming and the first name James. Since there was no middle name she had to go off of the addresses. Nancy was able to screen out four James Flemings right away because they lived in other areas of the state.

Finally, however, she pulled up a license for James Aaron Fleming, Birthday: August 21, 1982, St. Charles…

Joe held his breath as she pulled up the picture and they were both staring at a young man with dark hair, brown eyes and a bright smile on his face.

"Oh, my God," Joe inhaled sharply and sank quickly back into his chair – just before he would have fallen down in shock.

"Frank… it is Frank!" Nancy exclaimed. "His hair's just a tiny bit longer and styled differently but it's Frank."

"He's alive," Joe whispered. "He's really alive!"

Nancy used her mouse to print a button that would allow her to print off the picture, then she quickly logged off the system and eradicated all traces of her presence in the database.

Nancy sprang to her feet, crossed to Joe and hugged him tightly. He returned the hug just as tightly. She handed Joe the picture and he held it reverently, staring into the face of the big brother he had missed for two horrific years.

"We're coming big brother," he vowed. "We're coming!"


	8. Chapter 8 The Mystery Expands

Taking a Chance Chapter 8

The Mystery Expands

Joe and Nancy spent the next two days going over and rejecting various plans for how to approach James Fleming before they settled on one idea. It was a slim chance at best but the rest seemed to dangerous, impossible or flat out stupid. They wanted to feel James out, to give Frank a chance to tell them whether or not he was deep undercover without blowing his cover if that was the case – or to figure out if Frank had amnesia or something else. Whatever it ended up being, they didn't want Frank harmed in the process. The important thing was to keep him safe.

Nancy ran several searches on her computer that gave them more information on James Fleming. According to her report, he was 22, married a little less than eighteen months to Diana Patrelli and working for a corporation in St. Louis as a trouble-shooter/computer expert. While Nancy worked on the personal angles concerning James Fleming, Joe checked out the Modark Horizons Corporation.

"Sheesh," Joe told Nancy as they neared the end of a busy workday on Sunday evening. "This is convoluted and then some."

"What'd you find?" Nancy looked up from her computer screen. She swiveled the chair in which she sat so she faced Joe a little better.

"Well, Modark Horizons is owned by Regions International – you've heard of them, right? The company that's been doing all of that humanitarian work in Asia after the typhoon? Regions International, however, is a private owned company – it has never gone public and it's owned by six different individuals. Five have equal shares of exactly 10 each. The sixth, however, has a full 50 ownership, making him the owner, more or less, of the whole organization. I suppose the other put up money to help with start-up or something and get 10 of the profits in return for their initial help but I haven't been able to find out much about that."

"What's the guy's name?" Nancy asked curiously as she slid her chair around to look at Joe's monitor.

"Reevers," Joe said. "Jouquin Jorges Reevers."

Nancy made a face at that and frowned. "That name's familiar for some reason."

"Not to me," Joe admitted. "I don't even think he was mentioned in those reports about the help the company sent to Indonesia and the like. And, the other weird thing is that, except for his ownership of the company, I can't find out anything about Jouquin Jorges Reevers at all."

Nancy slid her chair back to her computer and typed in the name, including any alternate spellings that she could figure out but, as had happened with Joe, she found out nothing more he had.

"That's odd," she admitted. "Someone that rich would be in the spotlight quite a bit, whether he wanted it or not. There'd be pictures or reports on him, wouldn't there?"

"I'd think so," Joe agreed. He sighed as he propped his head on a hand and drummed his fingers on the desktop, frowning at his computer. "It doesn't make any sense at all, Nancy. Does this really matter anyway?"

"I don't know," Nancy leaned back and stretched, arching her arms over her head before she turned back to Joe. "Maybe it doesn't. I just can't help but think we should know as much as we can before we go try to find Frank."

Joe looked back at the picture sitting beside his computer on the desk. It was his brother's face, the same smile, and the same silly dimple in one cheek. Joe touched the picture again.

"You know," Joe looked up at Nancy. "I keep thinking if he's really undercover he wouldn't have let his picture be available like it was. I mean, he would know we'd come look eventually if we found out he was alive and if he wanted to stay hidden… no, that's too weird. I'm losing it here, Nan."

"Well," Nancy smiled. "Let's get something to eat, get some sleep and get back to work tomorrow."

"Agreed," Joe shut down his laptop and got up again, walking with Nancy out of the den and down to the kitchen where the Drew's housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, was stirring something in a pot.

"That smells great," Joe said to Hannah.

"Dinner's in fifteen minutes," Hannah said. "You have a few minutes to wash up. Is your case going all right?"

"We're running in circles mostly," Nancy admitted. "But we'll be leaving tomorrow to do some legwork."

Hannah nodded, distracted, as she continued to stir the pot. Joe and Nancy went to wash their hands and then helped to set the table before they settled down into their seats. Hannah served them a hearty, rich, beef stew along with fresh corn muffins from the oven and Joe dug in with gusto.

"This is great, Hannah," he said enthusiastically after a few bites. "I haven't had stew in a long time."

"I remembered it was one of your favorites," Hannah admitted with a little blush to her cheeks. "Enjoy."

Joe's cell phone rang halfway through the meal. He excused himself from the table and walked into the living room to take the call.

"This is Joe Hardy," Joe answered.

"Did you find it helpful?" a low-pitched voice on the other end said.

"What?" Joe asked, confused. "What's helpful?"

"The package!" the voice insisted. "Was it helpful? Do you believe me when I say you don't know everything about your brother's death? Or, rather, is that non-death?"

Joe sighed. "It was sort of helpful," he said. "And very mysterious. And if I find out your playing games with me and my family, I'll hunt you down and bury you."

"Tsk, tsk, Mr. Hardy," the voice chided him. "You don't think I would do something like that? Be gentle and you may receive more help just like what you got. You do want more help, don't you?"

"I want to know who you are!" Joe insisted. "And why you're doing whatever you're doing."

"I'm righting a few wrongs, Joe," the voice was friendlier. "I'm helping the oppressed and downtrodden."

The voice paused but Joe said nothing.

"I owe you and I owe Frank," the voice continued. "I can't tell you who I am – that's not allowed. But I can help you as much as I can.

"My last bit of advice is this – be very careful. The people behind all of this are more powerful than you can possibly believe. If you do the wrong thing or make the wrong move, it will mean the end for both you and Miss Drew. Do you understand?"

"I understand," Joe's mind raced as he considered the possibilities. Who was this man and what were his motives? Writing wrongs and helping the oppressed made him sound like a hero from a comic book story. And while there were several people whom he and Frank had helped, who was this one?"

"Talk to you later."

And then the other man was gone, leaving Joe holding a dead phone. Joe hit a button on his phone and walked back into the dining room. He told Nancy about the call and what was said and Nancy looked no less mystified.

"Maybe it's someone who really can't identify himself," Nancy said. "But we already knew to be careful, didn't we?"

Joe nodded. "Definitely."

A ringing doorbell interrupted them again and Joe looked over at Nancy and Hannah. "Are you expecting anyone? George or Bess maybe?"

Nancy shook her head. "They're out of town," she said.

Joe got up and cautiously approached the door. He opened it carefully and suddenly his voice rang out.

"What are you doing here?"


	9. Chapter 9 Old Friends and New Warnings

Taking a Chance Chapter 9

Old Friends and New Warnings

"Is that any kind of greeting for he who comes bearing gifts?" Phil Cohen asked his friend as he held up a large manila envelope in front of Joe's face. "Here I am, coming out of my way to bring you good tidings and presents and you don't even let me come in the door! What kind of friend are you anyway?"

Joe laughed and stepped out of the way so that Phil could enter the Drew home and stood back as Phil crossed into the room, walked over to Nancy and gave her a huge hug. "Hey, Drew!" Phil greeted. "You're looking great. Fantastic even."

"Nice to see you as well, Phil. Long time no see. What brings you to the area?" Nancy asked as she returned the hug.

Phil sat down a large black case onto the floor and handed the manila envelope to Joe. "It happened like this," he began. "I called Joe's house yesterday, to tell him I was in the area for the day and to find out if he wanted to get together. I got your dad and he mentioned that you were here and I said that was a funny coincidence as I was coming here today to attend a three-day conference. So, your dad, being the smart, savvy type that he is, decided that I could kill two birds with one stone and he asked me to bring this to you if I had time. I did and, voila. Here I am. Aren't you glad to see me?"

Joe laughed as he opened the envelope. Inside he saw Frank's passport, a small packet of pictures tucked into a used picture envelope and a copy of Frank's birth certificate as well. Joe handed it over to Nancy as the trio sat down in the living room.

"So what's going on? Are you two on a case together? Your dad told me nothing," Phil asked. He took out a comb to slide through his tangled, sandy-colored hair. "Just that you needed this information right away."

"We're sort of on a case, yeah," Joe agreed. He exchanged a glance with Nancy and saw Nancy's brief nod. "I… well, this isn't gonna be easy to hear, Phil, but I… we've learned…"

"Frank's not dead," Nancy supplied when Joe stammered to a halt. "We've got information that proves he's not dead, but living in a suburb in St. Louis."

Phil blinked and shook his head, rubbed at his ears and stared openly at Nancy and Joe. "What?"

"Frank's not dead," Joe got up and went down the hallway to the den, coming back a moment later with the picture of 'James Fleming's' driver's license. "We found that. Who does that look like?"

Phil studied the picture and looked up in shock. "That's Frank!"

"We agree," Joe said. "And that's why we needed the information you brought us. It has Frank's passport and birth certificate, along with some photos. We don't know why he's living as James Fleming – whether he has amnesia, has been programmed in some way or if he's deep undercover – and we wanted proof that what we say is true."

"This is so odd!" Phil said as he looked at the picture he held again. "It's plainly obvious. I thought he died in that fire, though!"

Joe nodded. "I did too," he admitted softly. "I was positive that he died. I was there, remember?"

"How'd you find this?" Phil asked.

Joe told him about the man at the docks and the packet of information he received. He and Nancy took turns telling Phil about their research so far and finally told Phil about their next plan.

"Do you need help?" Phil asked. "I can blow off the conference."

"I don't think so," Joe said. "At least not right now. If it is amnesia or something else, I don't want to confuse Frank by having a lot of people come after him at once. If I do need your help, though, I'll be sure to let you know."

Phil grinned. "So, until then – are you two busy tonight? How about some dinner?"

Nancy and Joe laughed and agreed.

"Did you bring any clothes with you?" Nancy asked Joe after Phil had left to go back to his hotel. "You seem to be wearing the same pants as yesterday and the day before."

"Mm, well," Joe confessed. "I brought two pairs of pants and two shirts. I really didn't plan on staying this long and I wanted everything to fit inside my computer bag. I'm saving the clean pair for the day we go to meet Frank."

Nancy made a face at Joe. "I have a washer and dryer you know," she reminded him tartly.

"Ah, yes," Joe said. "I could just go buy some more I suppose."

Nancy laughed and shook her head. "You're incorrigible, Joe. You'd rather shop than wash?"

"I'd have to wash them again in two days. If I buy more I could go five or six days without having to do laundry," Joe grinned. "Come on, Drew. We have to leave early in the morning."

They had talked about the merits of flying versus driving the five or so hours it would take to get to St. Louis and decided driving would be easier – they would have easy access to a car and wouldn't have to worry about convincing a rental car agency to rent to them. They were going to leave at what Joe called 'o dark thirty' and Nancy called 'real people time.'

They went to one of the nearby men's stores, where Joe picked up two more pairs of pants and three casual shirts, some underwear and socks. Joe used his credit card to pay for them and took the bag back out to the car.

He and Nancy both stopped when they saw the driver's side window to Nancy's car broken. When they peered inside they saw a large rock laying on the front seat with a note attached to it.

"Careful!" Nancy grabbed Joe's hand when he reached inside to brag the rock. "You'll not only cut yourself you'll contaminate the evidence. Just wait a minute!"

She went to the trunk of her car, popped it and pulled out a pair of rubber gloves. She pulled them on her hands and carefully opened the front door. Reaching in, she took the rock and lifted it out, setting it on the hood.

"Careful," Joe echoed Nancy's earlier warning. "There's glass still on it. It could cut through those gloves."

"I'm being careful," Nancy chided the young man. "Just hold on for a second."

Carefully, Nancy removed the rubber band holding the note into place and lifted the note off. She unfolded it to find a short note written in bright red magic marker.

_Forget everything you learned about James Fleming. This is your only warning._


	10. Chapter 10 How Stupid Can They Get?

TAKING A CHANCE

CHAPTER TEN

"How Stupid Can They Get?"

"How stupid can they get?" Joe asked Nancy as he looked over the note again. "The one thing they could have done to ensure that we were definitely going to check out James Fleming was to do this. Don't they realize that?"

"Maybe it was your mysterious friend spurring us on," Nancy said as she looked at the broken window of her car. "One thing's for sure, we can't take this to St. Louis tomorrow. We'll either have to borrow or rent a car. I'll call my dad, maybe we can take his car."

"You think he'll let us?" Joe asked as he sat down on a parking barrier. "We need something to get us out there."

"It shouldn't be a problem," the red-haired girl said as she pulled out her cell phone. The first call was to the police to report the vandalism of her car. The second was to her father to ask permission to take his car to St. Louis. Nancy did some fast-talking to convince Carson Drew that going to St. Louis was important but, in the end, he agreed. Nancy sat down beside Joe to wait for the police and smiled at him.

"I think we should keep the note to ourselves," Nancy said. "I don't think we want to broadcast why we're looking for James Fleming, right?"

Joe nodded his agreement. "And I think we should be careful from here on out. Someone knows we're looking for Frank now and doesn't want us to find him. Something we've done has set them off – I don't know what but something. Whatever it is…"

"You don't have to tell me to be careful," Nancy smiled at her friend. "I'm the level-headed one here, remember?"

Joe cocked an eyebrow, indignantly, at the young woman. "Hey, I'm as level-headed as the next guy. Smooth, calm and thoughtful, three words to best describe Joe Hardy!"

"Sassy, rash and stubborn would be the words I'd use," Nancy laughed. "Nobody in their right mind would call Joe Hardy calm or thoughtful."

"Hey! I can think!" Joe protested.

"Right," Nancy agreed. "You can think but you don't always choose to do it."

A police car pulled up a few minutes later and took Nancy's statement. A tow truck also arrived to bring the car to a garage where the glass would be replaced in the window while Nancy and Joe were out of town. The police officer that took Nancy's statement drove them back to the Drew home.

Papers in hand, suitcases packed and loaded, Joe and Nancy left early the next morning to drive to St. Louis, Missouri. As Nancy drove, Joe spent most of the trip gazing out of the window, his heart in his throat.

_What will we find there? Is it really Frank? Will he remember me? _

It was all Joe could do to sit still and not beg Nancy to drive faster, to get them to St. Louis even sooner. The pain of losing Frank never lessened, though. Whether James Fleming did prove to be Frank or not, that pain would remain. Closer than close to his brother, Joe knew it would be years before the last two years of separation were lost in a mist of memory.

Joe caught Nancy glancing at him occasionally, a worried expression on her face. The older girl was quiet as she drove but in those glances, Joe saw Nancy's worry and fear as well. They both wanted James Fleming to be Frank and they both feared what it would mean.

_What if he refuses to come with us? What if he won't believe us, despite our evidence?_

Joe absolutely refused to think that again. It was Frank. And he would accept nothing less.

"We're almost to St. Louis," Nancy told Joe a few minutes later. "And… this is going to sound odd but… I think we're being followed."

Joe didn't immediately turn around to look. Instead he leaned forward slightly and looked through the mirror on his side of the car.

"Which one?" he asked Nancy.

"The dark blue sedan back there," Nancy said. "When I stopped in Springfield it pulled off with us and when we got back on the interstate it got back on at the same time we did. I slowed down about ten miles an hour for a few miles and he never passed me."

Joe frowned. "Do you think they were the ones who threw the rock?"

Nancy shrugged. "Don't know. I'll see if I can lose them when we get into St. Louis."

They continued their trek toward St. Louis and Joe occasionally leaned forward to see the blue car still behind them about six or seven car lengths. When they got over the bridge and into St. Louis, however, Nancy put her foot on the gas and took off like a shot, heading straight down Highway 40 for a bit and then turning North at I-170 to get back on I-70.

"How'd that do?" she asked Joe.

"I don't see them anymore," Joe said. "They must not have been serious about it. Then again, if they were following us, they know where we're going. We'd better stay on the look-out."

"I agree," Nancy said. She continued over the next bridge and into St. Charles, and had Joe start reading off the directions she'd gotten from an online map search.

"So, which plan are we going with?" Joe asked her as they turned onto the street where James Fleming lived.

"Journalism 101," Nancy said. "We can at least hope that will get us close enough to see Frank."

"He's probably at work," Joe said. "We should wait until this evening."

Nancy regarded her friend for a moment. "You aren't getting cold feet, are you?"

Joe glared at her. "No. I just think he's at work. How're we gonna see him now if he's not in the house?"

"We won't know until we try," Nancy slowed the car and was about to slow to park in front of James Fleming's home when she heard the sound of a car speeding toward them.

Nancy and Joe looked up in dismay to see the dark blue sedan speeding toward them, straight for a head-on collision!


	11. Chapter 11 More Delays

Taking A Chance

Chapter 11

"More Delays"

Nancy's face was ashen as she put her car into reverse and mashed down hard on the gas petal. The car sped quickly backward as Nancy struggled to keep it going straight and the car pursuing them seemed to go even faster, making the wreck inevitable. Joe squeezed his eyes shut and held on tightly to the strap over the door beside him as Nancy whipped the car suddenly to one side.

Joe opened his eyes just in time to see the dark blue sedan roar by, missing them by mere inches! Nancy whipped her father's car around, jammed it into drive and raced forward again as the dark blue sedan turned around behind them and raced after them.

"Hold on," Nancy said grimly. "They're serious about this. We're going to have to come up with another plan – or get these guys off our backs."

Joe agreed. "We've got to do something. They could have killed all of us back there. You, me and them! What are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure," Nancy admitted as she looked in her mirror. The blue sedan was still behind them but, while they were in a residential area, didn't seem to want to get any closer. Nancy felt her stomach churning anxiously within her as she drove and she hoped – prayed – she wouldn't get both of them killed.

"Head back out to the interstate," Joe suggested. "We'll get off in a couple of exits, lose them, then race back here. If we can get back here before they do, we won't have to worry about what they do. I still can't believe they're working so hard to keep us away. Doesn't it make you more determined to find out what's wrong?"

"Totally," Nancy grinned. "I'm not about to back down now!"

Joe laughed. "Not that you even know the meaning of the words back down, Drew. Let's get out of here!"

Nancy raced them back to the interstate and merged with the traffic she found on I-70. The blue sedan merged about four car lengths back and Nancy quickly changed lanes several times to put more distance between her and their pursuer. Two exits later she left the interstate and raced down the back streets she found until she was sure that the car was no longer following her.

Joe navigated, using a local map that Nancy's father kept in the car, and got them, finally, back to where they wanted to go. The home of James and Diana Fleming, located in St. Charles Missouri.

Joe felt nervous butterflies beating a rhythm within his stomach as he stepped out of the car and he walked with Nancy up to the front door of the beautiful, villa-style home before them. Not too large and not too small, it reminded Joe of the kind of place where a young couple might raise a family and he wondered what Frank would think of their interruption into his new life.

"Ready?" Nancy asked him, quietly. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, before she pressed her finger down on the doorbell.

"Ready," Joe agreed, though he wasn't so sure about that. Still, he had come this far and he was determined to go the rest of the way. He had to find his brother and prove he was alive. He held on tightly to the packet his father sent him.

The door opened a few moments later and they faced a young woman about Nancy's age. The young woman's dark hair swept back into a ponytail and she was wearing a fluffy white bathrobe.

"Can I help you?" she asked them politely, eyes inquisitive.

"Miriam?" Nancy asked astonishment in her voice. "Miriam Alman?"

The woman started for a moment before composing her features. "I'm sorry; you must have me confused with someone else. My name is Diana. Diana Fleming."

Nancy frowned and watched the young woman as she reached to close the door. Nancy put her foot into the door jam before the woman could close it.

"I don't ever forget a face, Miriam," Nancy said. "And you are definitely Miriam Alman. You're even wearing the same earrings you wore the day I met you. That party in River Heights, remember?"

Miriam/Diana glared at Nancy as she tried to push the door shut again. Finally, she gave up.

"What do you want?" Miriam demanded. "Why are you bothering me?"

Joe, who was wondering just what happened to their plan to pose as journalists, wanted to know that as well. Nancy was changing the plan on him faster than he could keep up!

"I think you know why we're bothering you," Nancy smiled at her though the smile didn't reach her eyes. "We've come here to get what's ours."

Now Miriam did try to slam the door and Nancy winced when the door jammed into her foot. She maintained her position though and Joe stepped in to help her, holding onto the door to keep it from closing.

"I don't have anything of yours. Now leave before I call the police!" Miriam demanded.

"I don't think so," Nancy smiled. "Or rather, feel free to call the police if you'd like. I have a rather interesting story to tell them, though. Now, are you going to let us in or are we going to stand here and draw the attention of your neighbors?"

Miriam looked from Nancy to Joe and wilted. She stepped back and let them into the house. Joe closed the door behind him as he stepped into the room and looked around. The parlor was beautifully furnished with modern photographs on the walls, sconces along the walls and a small love seat set in front of an equally small fireplace.

"What do you want?" Miriam asked again as she folded her arms and stood against the far wall. "Why have you come to bother us?"

"We know who James Fleming is," Joe glared at the young woman. "What we don't know is why he's come here and become James Fleming."

"He's my husband!" Miriam hissed. "And I'm not giving him up. I've loved him since the very first time I saw him and he doesn't even know who you are anymore!"

Joe wondered, though. At this point he was not at all inclined to believe a single word the woman told him. He doubted she knew how to tell the truth anymore, living such a fantasy life as Diana Fleming as she was. She probably convinced herself daily that Frank was her husband, that he loved her and that he would never leave her.

Regardless of what the truth was.

Nancy looked no less doubtful and she stepped toward Miriam.

"I think you want to believe he doesn't know who we are," Nancy said. "But we aren't going to know the truth until we talk to him, are we? Where is he?"

"He's at work!" Miriam exclaimed. "He won't be home until this evening. You have to leave now!"

"I don't think so," Nancy smiled as she walked over to the love seat and settled into it. "I think we'll just wait here until he comes home. You could call him and tell him that you need him home right now."

Miriam shook her head insistently. "I can't do that! He would get in trouble at work."

"Lady, I don't care," Joe said. When she flinched he softened his tone a bit. "Look. Frank Hardy is my brother. I'm closer to him than anyone on the planet and I have the right to know the truth."

He paused and was about to say something else when the door of the house flew open again behind them and two men stepped into the room.

"Step away from her," a rude voice ordered them. "Right now!"

Nancy and Joe turned toward the two men and saw that they both held very powerful looking handguns in their hands. They raised their hands and stepped away from Miriam as she ran toward one of the two men.

"Shoot them!" Miriam insisted. "They're trying to take James away. Shoot them now!"

The man she stood near smiled and raised his handgun right at Joe and slowly began to squeeze the trigger.


	12. Chapter 12 Big Time Trouble

Taking A Chance  
Chapter 12

"Big Time Trouble"

"Mr. Hardy," the man with the gun to Joe's head said in a clear voice. "Do not move. Do not think about moving."

Joe kept his hands up and he stared at the gun that was so close to him. He wanted to move; he wanted to knock the gun clear out of the man's hand, but he didn't think he could do it without getting shot in the process. With every nerve vibrating to attack, he stood still and saw Nancy out of the corner of his eyes, the gun of the other man pointed right at her.

"You will come with us, Mr. Hardy," the first goon, the one with the gun on him said to Joe. "You will stay here, Miss Drew. I think we'll lock you in the back room. Mrs. Fleming?"

Miriam stepped forward and grabbed Nancy's arm. With the second goon following them, she led Nancy away, down one of the hallways and disappeared out of Joe's line of sight. Joe looked back at the first goon, as he called the man in his head and waited. The man had not taken his attention off of Joe and he remained with the hammer of the gun cocked back, ready to take out Joe in a second if Joe tried anything.

The second goon came back with Miriam a few moments later. "She's locked up. Let's go," he said.

The first goon pointed at the door with his gun and Joe walked toward it. Now both guns were trained solely on him.

"Don't let her out," the second goon said to Miriam. "Don't talk to her. Don't acknowledge her. We'll be back when the boss is done with him."

Miriam nodded. "All right. But what if James comes home?"

"He won't," the second goon said. "We'll be back before that happens."

Joe tucked that bit of information away. James – or rather Frank – obviously knew nothing about his father-in-law's real business and Miriam took pains to keep him from finding out anything.

Joe was directed out of the house and toward the dark blue sedan that sat in front of Mr. Drew's car. They put him in the back seat and goon number two sat beside him, the gun still clearly in his hand, ready to take Joe out if the younger man moved wrong. Goon number one got into the driver's seat.

"Where are we going?" Joe asked.

"Do not speak," The second goon ordered. "Or you will not be able to ever talk again."

_Geez,_ Joe thought. _What's wrong with asking a few questions? Like I don't know you're talking me to see Ras-Alman. The question is, why? Obviously Ras-Alman wanted something, otherwise he would shoot first and forget about the questions._

Joe took a deep breath and settled back in the seat. He stared out the window, trying to keep track of the turns and streets but by the time they finished driving he was all turned around and he had not seen the last three street signs. They stopped the car in front of a two-story, redbrick building.

Goon number 2 waited his hand on his gun as goon number 1 opened the back door on Joe's side and motioned Joe out of the car. They both flanked Joe as they escorted him into the red brick building. The goons led Joe down a long hallway and into a room light only by a small lamp sitting a top a table in the middle of the room.

"I feel like I walked into a bad movie," Joe commented nervously.

"Be seated, Mr. Hardy," a heavily accented voice from within the darkness ordered. Ras-Alman need not have bothered to hide his identity so well – Joe recognized that voice immediately.

Goon Two pushed Joe into a chair and both goons stood right behind Joe.

"Now, Mr. Hardy," the voice continued. "I see that you must insist on causing me grief. What I wish to know is how you have learned about James Fleming? What has caused you to seek your brother after two years?"

Joe crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

"Nothing doing," he growled.

Joe's arms were suddenly wrenched back and he gave a startled shout. "Hey!"

"I expect your cooperation, Mr. Hardy," Marcius Ras-Alman declared. "I have simple questions to which I expect answers. If you do not answer them I will have to collect your friend – Miss Drew is it? Now," Ras-Alman's voice went steely. "How did you learn of James Fleming and why do you seek your brother?"

Joe continued to glower, despite the hold the two goons had on his arms. "So you're admitting James Fleming is Frank Hardy?"

A fist in the pit of his stomach ended any more desire for witty repartee. Joe would have doubled over if he was not being held so tightly and he gasped in pain.

"Now," Ras-Alman said. "Answers, Mr. Hardy."

"I recognized the ring in the wedding announcement," Joe gasped. His stomach really hurt but not quite as much now as earlier. "The one on his pinky. As soon as I saw it, I knew."

"And how did you come to see that wedding announcement? You live in the east. This is the Midwest and I know the announcement was only in the one paper," Ras-Alman said. "Would you have me believe you just happened upon it? That nobody showed it to you?"

"You can believe what you want," Joe retorted. "But the truth is someone did show it to me."

Now he ventured into the realm of fiction. "A friend found it online. She found it while doing research about wedding announcements for a school paper. The way the picture was shot was interesting to her and she wanted my opinion on it. As soon as I saw the ring it was like a lightning strike."

"That simple?" Ras-Alman sounded dubious.

"Nothing simple about it," Joe glared at the other man. "We had to enlarge the ring several times and clean it up before I could see that ring clearly enough to know for sure it was Frank's. It's from a matched set."

He would have shown Ras-Alman the ring on his finger but, of course, he couldn't. "My parents got them for us."

There was nothing for a long while, no talking, only the sounds of his breathing and the occasional cough of one of the men behind him. Joe occasionally pulled on his arms to try and free them but the goons still held tightly to them.

"Now, how is it that Miss Drew is involved?" Ras-Alman asked at last.

Joe shrugged. "She's a friend and we've worked together before. I knew if I was going to have to try to find a very cold trail she'd be the perfect one to help me. That's all."

_Close enough_, he thought. _Close enough._

"Mmm," Joe tensed slightly when he heard that tone from Ras-Alman. Obviously, Ras-Alman didn't believe him.

_Then again,_ Joe thought. _I didn't expect him to. Not really._

Marcius Ras-Alman was, simply put, a bully. He ruled by his fists and killed people who got in his way. While he put on this air of polite civility, the lesser side of his nature appeared fast, swift and deadly. Joe half-feared the next words from the man, though he kept his own features calm.

"Your arrival is unfortunate," Ras-Alman said at last. "I don't believe your entire story but, then, it may not matter how it is you really did learn of James Fleming. I do know, however, that I will not allow your interruption into the lives of my daughter and her husband. They are content and they are happy. That is all that matters."

"He's my brother," Joe retorted. "My family. If you think I am…"

Joe was suddenly yarded up by his collar and dragged forward. He now faced Ras-Alman, whose eyes bored right into his.

"You have two choices, Mr. Hardy," Ras-Alman hissed. "You will leave St. Louis. You will take Nancy Drew with you and you will forget about anything you have seen here."

There was a pause – for effect? Or just to annoy. Joe thought it was doing both.

"Or?" he prompted.

"Or," Ras-Alman continued. "I will kill you and Miss Drew, I will kill your families and I will even kill my son-in-law, if that is what I must do to keep me and mine safe and happy. Leave town, Joe Hardy. You have one hour from the time I drop you back off at my daughter's house. If I ever see you here again, you will soon know the meaning of terror.


	13. Chapter 13 That's What You Think!

Taking A Chance

Chapter 13

"That's What You Think!"

Joe glared at Ras-Alman, not at all cowed by his threats. While he knew there was a bare chance the man might be able to carry out the threats to his family, he knew that his father was much smarter than this man. One phone call home and Fenton Hardy would see that his mom and Aunt Gertrude were safe and he would also see to the protection of Nancy's father, Carson Drew and her housekeeper, Hannah Gruen. Joe tried a deep breath, which hurt his aching stomach only slightly. The first thing he would have to do is find Frank and get him out of here so that Frank would be safe as well.

It took a lot of guts to threaten your own son-in-law.

"What did you do to him?" Joe demanded suddenly, thinking of the reasons Frank would have become James Fleming. "How did you persuade him to marry your daughter? I deserve to know that much."

"You deserve nothing!" Ras-Alman released Joe and stood back. "You deserve nothing but more pain and misery heaped on you for what you have already caused my family. Keeping your brother is one way of doing that. As for what I did to him? What makes you think I did anything to him?"

Joe snorted. "Like he would come here on his own, change his identity and make us all thing he's dead. I know my brother better than that."

"Mmm," Ras-Alman was non-committal. "Perhaps you do."

There was silence for a few very long moments, moments that ticked by slowly while Joe waited. He wanted answers.

"He was injured in the explosion, of course," Ras-Alman said. "Disoriented, insistent on finding Miss Shaw and saving her, though she was already dead, of course. I dragged him out myself and… let's just say made him a better man."

"I doubt that," Joe glared, wanting to hurt this man more than ever before. "He was already the best man possible. All you've done is taken him from his family and from his friends."

"Perhaps," Ras-Alman stated. "But he's my family now and he will remain so – if you wish to live to see another day. Now, it's time for you to go."

He snapped his fingers and the two goons grabbed Joe again, dragging him from the room. Joe wanted to stay and beat the information out of Ras-Alman, and if he could get loose from these two goons he would do just that but their grips remained as if made of iron and he was slowly dragged back to the car and thrust into the backseat.

The man he thought of as goon 2 stuck a gun right in his face when Joe reached for the door handle on the other side of the car and Joe slowly pulled his hand back and settled back into the seat. Goon 1 got into the driver's seat again and they left the red-brick building, heading back along a meandering path toward the Fleming home.

Frank's house, Joe thought. It's Frank's house and nobody else's.

Ras-Alman may have won the battle but he hadn't won the war, after all.

Joe sat quietly as he was brought back to the house where his brother and Ras-Alman's daughter lived and he considered his options. He knew that neither himself or Nancy would back down from this, that no matter the threats they had to get to Frank and, more importantly, get through to him. If Frank didn't remember them they would help him to remember.

The car pulled up outside of the house and Joe was escorted to the front door. Miriam Alman opened the door as soon as they approached it, her glower ferocious as she looked at Joe.

"Release Miss Drew," Goon 1 said to Miriam. "They will be leaving now."

_That's what you think,_ Joe thought.

"Remember, you have one hour to leave town," Goon 2 said. "And we will be watching you both. We'll know if you haven't left."

"Yeah, sure," Joe declared. He wasn't about to back down but no sense in letting them know that. Joe looked up at Nancy as she approached, flushed, rubbing her hands. It was obvious she tried to break out of the room while Joe was gone but hadn't succeeded.

_To bad,_ Joe thought. _This might be a whole different story if she had!_

The two goons forcibly escorted Joe and Nancy out to their car and Nancy, confused, got into the driver's seat.

"Just drive for now," Joe said to his friend. "I'll explain."

Nancy nodded and started the car. They left the house and circled back out to the interstate as if heading back home.

Joe told Nancy what transpired with Ras-Alman, including his threats to their families. Nancy's blue eyes blazed hotly when she heard that threat and it was obvious she had no intention of backing down, no matter what happened.

"Nobody threatens my family," Nancy said with resolve. "All right, what first? I take it you've thought this all out already, right?"

"Right," Joe nodded his agreement. "I've thought it out fairly thoroughly in fact."

"What first?" Nancy asked.

"We call our families," Joe said. "Ras-Alman, unfortunately, has a long reach. I can trust my dad to keep himself and my mom and Aunt safe. If you want, he can include your dad and Hannah in that protection."

"Dad has his own safety net," Nancy said. "What do we do after that?"

"Since we're going to have a very hard time getting to Frank at his house we need to set up a place to meet him away from the house. I'm going to call the place where he works and see if I can't get him to meet us at a restaurant or somewhere neutral."

"Why would he do that?" Nancy asked. "Especially if he doesn't remember who we are."

Joe shrugged. "I have my ways," he said. "Trust me, he'll meet us. Let's get those phone calls made."

Joe called home on his cell phone and got hold of his father. Fenton listened as Joe explained the problem and finished with, "And I need you to get protection for Vanessa and Andrea too, dad."

Joe knew that Ras-Alman meant it when he said he would go after anyone that Joe loved and Joe wouldn't leave his girlfriend to fend for herself.

"I can do that, son," Fenton said. "So you're sure now? It is Frank?"

"Yeah," Joe said. "I'm positive. The hard part comes now. We have to arrange to meet with him without the rest of his so-called family knowing and then we have to convince him we aren't insane. I just need to know that you and mom and Vanessa and Aunt Gertrude are going to be safe."

"We'll be safe," Fenton agreed. "I feel the urge to go on a long cruise all of a sudden. I'll arrange some fake ids for us, too, so we don't sail under our names. Do you think a couple of weeks will work?"

"Definitely," Joe stated calmly. "I think if we do succeed in getting through to Frank we'll get Ras-Alman off our backs. Somehow."

"All right, son," Fenton said. "You be careful. We don't want to lose both of you, you know that, right?"

"I know, Dad," Joe agreed. "I love you."

"I love you too, son," Fenton said.

Joe turned to Nancy and saw she was already off the phone.

"My dad is taking Hannah, George and Bess to France for a couple of weeks," Nancy said. "We have an old family friend there."

Joe relaxed. Knowing that the families were safe, now, made him feel better. He grabbed their envelope of information on James Fleming and found the phone number for James' place of employment.

"James Fleming please," Joe said when he got a nice sounding receptionist on the phone. "This is Randall Seaforth-Jones."

There was a pause as the call was transferred and soon a warm voice said over the line.

"This is James Fleming."

Joe's heart did flips in his chest. It was his brother's voice. He was talking to his brother!

He had to take a moment to calm himself, during which Frank repeated, "This is James Fleming. Hello?"

"Mr. Fleming," Joe said, finally. "My name is Randall Seaforth-Jones. I have found some very important information concerning your father-in-law and I would like to meet with you to talk to you about it."

"My father-in-law?" Frank declared. "Raymond? What about him?"

"This is delicate, Mr. Fleming," Joe swallowed nervously. "It would be best if we didn't talk about this in public and it would definitely be best if you didn't mention this call to your father-in-law. You may have seen his… temper… for yourself?"

There was a pause before Frank said, "Yes… I have."

"Then you know what I mean," Joe said. "I've read about you, Mr. Fleming. And I've asked others about you. You're a hard-worker, you are diligent and, I think, you are a very proud man who wants nothing to do with crime. Am I right?"

"You're right," Frank sounded flustered.

"That's why I think we should keep this between us. I really do need your help with something as my own life is in danger right now. All I want to do is meet with you – maybe in a restaurant, somewhere that you have never been before, maybe well away from where you live of work. Can you recommend a place?"

"Yes," Frank said. He still sounded nervous and uncertain – but Joe expected that behavior. After all, Frank didn't know Joe from Adam. And Joe was being mysterious.

"Hold on a second."

There was the sound of flipping pages.

"There's a Denny's on Hampton south of 40," James said. "I haven't ever been there and I know none of my colleagues would be caught dead in that area of town. Would that work?"

"That's fine," Joe said. "I'll be with a girl with red hair. I have blonde hair and blue eyes. There will be a manilla envelope on the table. Non-smoking section, all right?"

"Fine," Frank agreed. Obviously they could alter his memory but they couldn't take away Frank's desire to solve mysteries. "I'd better call my wife…"

"No!" Joe exclaimed. "Mr. Fleming, surely you realize that if you call her and let on anything about this conversation that she will call her father, don't you?"

Frank sighed. "I suppose," he conceded. "All right, I'll meet you there in… a half hour? It will take that long to drive there."

"Fine," Joe agreed. "Thank you, Mr. Fleming. You won't regret this."

_I promise,_ Joe vowed to himself. _I promise._


	14. Chapter 14 James Fleming

Taking A Chance

Chapter 14

"James Fleming"

Joe took a deep breath when he hung up and looked over at Nancy. The expectant hopeful expression on her face probably matched the same expression on his face. He had spoken to Frank. After two, long, almost unbearable, years, he spoke to his brother, Frank!

"Was it really him?" Nancy asked hopefully.

Joe nodded. "It really was him. Oh, God, Nancy, I just talked to Frank!"

They would have hugged if Nancy hadn't been driving but she reached over a hand and squeezed Joe's. The younger Hardy settled back in his seat but what he wanted to do was jump up and down for joy. Frank was alive. Frank really was alive! His brother…

His brother!

"We're meeting at a Denny's on… Hampton," Joe reached for the map of St. Louis and looked through the list of streets to find the location of Hampton Street before looking for it on the map. "Ok, we need to get on Highway 40. Let's head down I-170 again, that will get us down there the fastest."

Joe had no idea what traffic would be like this time of day but he figured a direct route was best so they didn't get lost.

"What are you going to say to him?" Nancy asked. "I mean, he thinks he's coming to a meeting about his father-in-law, right?"

Joe nodded. "It was all I could think of to get him there without talking to Miriam or the others. I think, though, that I'm going to let the envelope speak for itself. If he's as smart as he was, and I have no reason to believe he isn't, then he will know what I'm trying to say when he looks at this."

Nancy nodded. "I guess after that it's up to him as to whether to believe you or not, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Joe said. "But I'm not giving up on this, Nancy. He may not believe me today, or tomorrow, but I'm not going to give up on this. He's my brother."

"Yeah," Nancy smiled.

Joe wondered, for a moment, what Nancy was thinking. He knew that she and Frank had feelings for each other before Frank's supposed death. They never really acted on those feelings due to relationships with other people but… those relationships no longer existed. Callie was dead and Ned had left, leaving the two of them to pursue any relationship they wanted…

…if Frank remembered. If he wanted to pursue it. If, if, if.

"Do you think he'll remember when he sees us?" Joe suddenly asked.

"I don't know," Nancy shrugged helplessly. "I've thought about it and I just don't know, Joe."

"He has to remember. He has to," Joe vowed. "I mean, we grew up together. Isn't that going to be stronger than anything that Ras-Alman did to him?"

"If Ras-Alman brainwashed him he might not remember," Nancy said. "But there's a chance you can override that brainwashing."

Joe smiled and leaned forward, drumming his fingers on the dashboard. Nervous energy spiked through him, making him want to spring from the car and run along side it. As Nancy turned onto Highway 40 he felt his stomach start to flip and he began to rock back and forth.

_Frank, Frank, Frank,_ his whole body sang. _Frank!_

By the time Nancy parked in the parking lot of the Denny's restaurant, Joe felt like a tightly wound wire about to be plucked. Joe practically ran into the restaurant, hoping to see Frank already there but he realized not enough time had passed for Frank to arrive yet. Nancy came up behind him and they asked for a table for three that was 'out of the way'. He also said that another person would be asking for a Randall Seaforth-Jones and to direct him their way.

Joe sat the envelope with the information about Frank carefully onto the table and sat back, waiting.

"He'll be here, Joe," Nancy encouraged him. "He'll be here. If he said he was coming, he'll come."

Joe nodded. "I know. I'm just… I've dreamed of this, Nancy and woken up disappointed every morning. I keep wanting you to pinch me so I know if this is real or not… but it's real. I was never this anxious in any dream!"

Nancy smiled. "Me either," she admitted. "To have him back after losing him… it really is like a dream, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Joe agreed. "It is."

Nancy hugged him again and they both settled back in their seats. They ordered drinks when the waiter came by.

It was five minutes later when a tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed man came around the corner where they sat. Joe's heart leapt straight into his throat and Nancy's eyes widened.

"Frank," Joe whispered.

"Mr. Seaforth-Jones?" Frank asked him. "I'm James Fleming."

Joe felt like someone punched the wind out of him but he had presence of mind enough to nod.

"I'm glad you could make it," Joe managed to say. "Please, have a seat. This is my friend, Nancy. Nancy Drew."

He saw Frank stare at her for a moment and then nod.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Drew," Frank said as he settled into the empty seat across from them.

It was silent for a moment as both Nancy and Joe stared at Frank and he studied them. He ordered a cup of coffee from the waiter when he came back around and then turned back to Joe and Nancy.

"So, you said you had something to show me?" he asked. "About my father-in-law?"

Joe nodded. "It's in this," he slid the envelope across to Frank.

Frank opened it and carefully slid the contents out onto the table. He picked up the passport first, a curious expression on his face as he read the name inside 'Franklin Gregory Hardy'.

And then his face lit upon the picture inside the passport and his eyes went wide.

"What?" he said. "What is this?" he demanded.

"Just look at the rest of it. Please?" Joe asked him. "Then we'll explain."

Frank's hands started shaking as he looked at the rest. The birth certificate for Franklin Gregory Hardy born to Fenton and Laura Hardy was next. He looked through all of the pictures, of him alone or with their parents and finally of pictures with Joe as well.

"What is this?" he asked again, his voice shaky.

"It's you," Joe said, softly. "These are all pictures of you. Frank Hardy. My older brother."

"You… but…" Frank looked back at the pictures – there were several that featured Joe as well as Frank.

"My real name is Joe," Joe said gently. "Joseph Alexander Hardy. I'm your younger brother."

Frank shook his head over and over again. "This is impossible. This is not… My name is James Fleming! James Fleming!"

Joe took a deep breath. "It is now," he agreed. "But it should never have been."

"I can't listen to this," Frank put his hands over his ears and slid out of the booth. "I can't listen to this."

The older man had gone pale upon seeing the pictures and looked ready to throw-up any second now. Joe sprang to his feet and put his hand on Frank's shoulder.

"It's all right," he said, calmly. "It really is all right, Frank. Please, just sit back down. I'll explain everything."

_Don't let me lose him again,_ Joe prayed. _Help me say the right thing!_

Still shaky, Frank sat back down in the booth but it was obvious by the haunted expression in his eyes that not only did he need to hear them out, he wanted to hear them out. He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again.

"All right," he said. "Talk."


	15. Chapter 15 Learning Curve

Taking A Chance  
Chapter 15

"Learning Curve"

Joe relaxed a little as Frank sat back down in the booth and stared at him. Little creases appeared on the edges of Frank's eyes as the older brother studied the younger brother, as if, just maybe, he was trying to remember.

"What would you like to know?" Nancy asked, allowing Joe more time to think. Her heart did a little pitter pat in her chest as she looked at her old friend. In days past he would look at her with something akin to keen interest but now it was merely curiosity – a curiosity she wasn't sure he wanted.

"Who you are, again. Why you think I'm this… this person," Nancy saw Frank skirt around saying his real name.

Nancy took a deep breath, ready to start at the beginning again. She took the pictures, though and laid them out in a kind of order. Pictures of Frank as a baby with Laura and pictures of Frank as a baby with Fenton. Pictures of a young Frank and Joe together. Pictures of Frank by himself growing up. Pictures of Frank with Joe. More pictures of Frank with Callie Shaw. And finally, a picture of Frank taken just before his supposed death at a birthday party, arm draped companionably about Joe.

"Your name is Frank Hardy," Nancy spoke calmly. "This is you as a baby. Have you ever seen baby pictures of yourself?"

Frank shook his head. "N-no. They were destroyed in the fire."

Nancy looked up at him. "Fire?"

"The fire that killed my parents," Frank said. "Two years ago. My memory is a bit scattered because of it. I was in the hospital for a few weeks but Diana was always there, and her father…"

Frank shook slightly as he looked at the pictures.

"This woman is your mother," Nancy showed him the picture of Laura cuddling with a baby Frank. "Her name is Laura. Does she look familiar?"

Frank started to shake his head but he pulled the picture close for a moment. "I…" he closed his eyes for a moment but clutched his head and shook it violently a moment later. "I can't!"

"Frank," Nancy gingerly touched his hand. "It's all right. Just let us tell you. You don't have to try to remember yet, all right? How would that be?"

Frank nodded.

"The man in this picture is your father, Fenton," Nancy continued a moment later. "Fenton Hardy. He's used to be a detective with the New York City Police Department and now he's a private detective, one of the very best in the world."

"And these are with me," Joe finally broke his silence as he looked over the pictures taken of him and Frank as babies, as young children, as older children and later on into their teenage years. "We do a lot together, more than most brothers, in fact. We've always been very close, Frank."

Frank studied the pictures and occasionally held one up and looked intently at Joe. He put the picture back down and went onto the next one, studying each in turn. He looked back at the passport and birth certificate on the table, brown eyes darkening with intensity.

"I don't understand," he whispered. "What happened? Why am I here? How is it you're coming now, two years later?"

"We… we thought you were dead," Joe whispered, looking – and sounding – miserable. "We were on a really bad case, Frank. An international terrorist was loose in Bayport and we were helping Dad track him down. We traced him to this old house on the outskirts of town and were about to go inside to look around, to see if we could grab him and bring him in when you did something I've rarely seen you do before. You suddenly just took off. Minutes before you were talking about needing a plan, needing to make sure we didn't do something stupid like get ourselves killed and there you were, running into the house, getting yourself killed!"

Joe's voice rose, louder and louder, until the last came out, practically like an accusation. Frank flinched back in his seat, staring at Joe as though he had grown horns. Joe collapsed back, rubbing at his face with both hands as he tried to calm back down again.

"As soon as you went into the house it blew up," Joe said. "Fire shot up everywhere. And they never found you. They said you and Callie were both killed and I lived with it for two years. I lived with your death. With… with not having you in my life anymore."

They were all quiet for a few minutes. The server brought food for each of them but they all picked at their plates, rather than eating.

"How did you happen to start looking for me?" Frank asked finally.

"Someone tipped me off," Joe admitted. "I don't know who it was, he never revealed who he was, but he wanted to meet. He stayed in the shadows and gave me a packet of papers to look at. Oh, he had told me on the phone when he called – before the meet – that everything I knew about the death of Frank Hardy wasn't true. I thought maybe he had more information on how you died, so I went. He gave me the packet and told me to contact Nancy here…"

Joe reached into a pocket and pulled a smaller envelope out of it.

"Here's what we were given," Joe said.

Frank opened the packet and pulled out the announcement, the photo and the amethyst necklace.

"This is my wedding announcement," Frank said. "And a picture of our house."

Joe nodded. "And that necklace belonged to Miriam Alman, aka Diana Patrelli."

Frank's eyes widened with shock. "My wife? But why?"

"We're still working on that," Nancy admitted. "But I saw this necklace on her two years ago. It's unique, see the fitting? I talked to her about it for a few minutes; she said it was handcrafted by a man who worked for her father as a birthday present. And then I remembered Miriam Alman and knew who the woman in the wedding announcement was."

"And Miriam Alman is the daughter of the man who supposedly killed you," Joe said carefully. "His name is Marcius Ras-Alman and he's the international terrorist that we were tracking."

Frank's eyes were wide and he shuddered slightly as if warding off something bad.

"Do you remember any of it?" Joe asked, gently. "Do you remember anything at all about the past? About me?"

Frank closed his eyes and Nancy and Joe exchanged a look. Had they gone too fast? Had they gone too far?

Joe stayed alert, ready to race after his brother if Frank took off.

"This is… it's almost unbelievable," Frank said finally. "Except that it's too bizarre to be made up. I have another question though. Why am I alive?"

"I honestly don't know," Joe said. "Except… maybe it's Ras-Alman's way of getting revenge. Maybe he wanted the rest of us to live with the pain of losing you. He told me when I confronted him earlier today that he would kill me – he would kill our entire family – if I insisted on meeting you."

Frank looked shocked. "But you came…?"

"I called Dad," Joe grinned. "And he got mom and Aunt Gertrude and my girlfriend, Vanessa, and took them to safety somewhere. Nancy's family is safe too. That just leaves the three of us."

"Look," Frank said. "I… I admit I want to believe you but… I need time. I can't just take off like this. It's too sudden and strange."

_There was that old Frank caution again, this time working against us, _Nancy thought.

Frank finished his coffee, threw some bills from his wallet onto the table and stood.

"Can I have a card or something to contact you?" Frank asked. "I promise I will."

Joe frowned. "Frank, I really don't think you should go back there. He threatened to kill you too if you tried to leave."

Frank leaned forward, hands on the table. "Don't you understand? I need to talk to Diana about this. I have to hear what she has to say about this. I've… I love her. Maybe not like other men love women but I care for her a lot. She saw me through a lot of pain and healing. And she's pregnant, too. She's going to have our baby. I can't just leave her."

_A baby. Oh, God,_ Nancy thought. _She's going to have his baby! _

Joe rubbed at his forehead again. "I… I really don't think this is a good idea but maybe we should all go together. You can talk to her and… we'll go from there."

Nancy's eyes shot over to Joe. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No," Joe admitted. "I'm pretty sure it's a horrible idea. But we don't have a choice, do we Frank?"

Frank shuddered when he heard his real name and flinched.

"You don't have a choice," he agreed.

"All right, then," Joe said. "We go together."

They paid their bill and went out to the parking lot. Frank walked over to a new, silver, Mercedes and unlocked the door.

"You know the way to my house?" he asked.

"Yeah," Joe said. "But… Nancy, why don't you ride with him and I'll drive your dad's car?"

Nancy shook her head. "No, you go with him. I'll follow you."

"Nancy, why are you arguing with me?" Joe demanded.

"Because he's your brother," Nancy smiled sweetly. "Go on, I'll be right behind you."

They had no time to do anything else, however, because as Frank opened his car door a loud report of bullets suddenly shot off from a car just across the side street… right at Frank, Joe and Nancy.


	16. Chapter 16 Getting Some Answers

TAKING A CHANCE

CHAPTER 16

"Getting Some Answers"

Joe tackled his brother, trusting that Nancy had sense enough to get down out of the way of the hail of bullets flying around them and all three huddled behind cars, holding their breaths as the bullets strafed the area. A few more shots were fired as a goodbye before the car bearing the gunmen sped away, leaving behind a maelstrom of damage in their wake.

Joe carefully lifted up off of Frank and found his brother holding his hands over his ears, his eyes squeezed shut as if warding off all the noise and chaos about him. Joe gently touched Frank's shoulder.

"It's over, Frank," Joe squeezed the shoulder. "It's over now. You're safe for now. Come on, let's get up."

"You sure it's safe?" Nancy asked. "They could come back, you know."

"I know," Joe got to his feet and peered up over the car. The gunmen's car was nowhere to be seen, though, so he felt safe standing all the way. Joe handed Nancy a hand and pulled her up to her feet before offering a hand to Frank.

"Is anyone hurt?" Joe asked as he looked Frank over. Frank stood now but he looked nervous and kept looking past Joe, toward the street.

"What was that?" Frank demanded in a shaky voice. "Why…?"

"It could be any number of things," Joe explained to his brother. "But I have a feeling that it was your father-in-law's thugs."

Frank's eyes went wider as he turned to look at Joe and Nancy again. "Why would he try to kill me? Why would he try to kill us?"

"I told you who and what he was, Frank," Joe reminded his brother. "He must have had you followed and told his men to take action if you met up with us. That's the kind of thing Ras-Alman would do."

Frank shook his head in shock and shuddered slightly as he looked over his shot-up Mercedes.

"I won't be able to explain this to Diana," he murmured. "How can I?"

"I don't know," Joe touched his brother's shoulder. "Are you sure you want to go back there? They could try even worse if they see us again."

Frank sighed and rubbed at his head. "I have to," he said again. "She's my wife. Even… even if I was tricked into marrying her, it doesn't matter. I have to find out why. I need answers."

"She won't like it very much," Nancy said softly. "She'll hate it, in fact."

"Maybe," Frank shrugged. "But I still have to see her."

It took a good two hours to get through the battalion of police that arrived to take statements about the shooting and promises to come to the police station later to give more statements but finally the trio managed to break free of the tumult and to head back to St. Charles to Frank's house. They drove Nancy's dad's car since Frank's Mercedes wouldn't start and Frank led the way into the house.

"Diana!" he called out as he walked into his home. "Diana, where are you?"

"Baby!" Miriam flew down the stairs and was about to fly into Frank's arms when she saw Nancy and Joe behind Frank. "You! What are you doing here? How dare you come back here and terrorize me again!"

"That's enough, Diana," Frank said sternly. "I've been talking to them for the last hour or so and I have just one question for you. How long have you known that I am Frank Hardy?"

Miriam's eyes were wide as she turned to Frank, an imploring expression on her face. "I'm not… I mean… I never knew. You're James Fleming, sweetheart. James Fleming, remember? You're not this Frank Hardy…"

"You're lying," Frank said coldly. "Tell me the truth, Diana."

Joe exchanged a startled glance with Nancy. He wasn't sure when Frank started believing him, but there it was. Frank believed him!

Miriam shook her head. "No, it's not true," she said. "You are James Fleming. I'm your wife, Diana! That's what I know. And I'm having our baby."

Frank took a deep breath. "They have proof," he said. "More proof than you and your father had about James Fleming. They have actual proof as to my identity. Pictures. Passport. Birth certificate. Evidentiary support! What do you have?"

Miriam paled slightly, looking from Frank to Joe and Nancy and back to Frank.

"I've always loved you," Miriam whispered. "Always. But… but when you were HIM you wouldn't give me the time of day. You didn't care that I loved you. You wouldn't even look at me because of that girl! But when you… when you couldn't remember and you were so confused… I knew you could love me and you do! I know you do."

Frank blinked and looked away for a moment.

"I do," he touched her hair. "In a way I do, Diana. But I knew there was something missing. All this time I knew there was a hole in my life that had never been filled. I could never figure that part out but there were no answers to explain why. Now. Now I know why."

"You were missing nothing!" Miriam insisted. "James, you had me, and our baby! You didn't, you don't need anything or anyone else! That's all that matters! The three of us!"

Frank shook his head again. "No," he said. "I need my family. I may not remember them clearly but I need them. I have parents, Diana, and a brother. You took those away from me. How could you think I would forgive that?"

"You love me," Miriam said desperately. "I know you love me!"

"Maybe," Frank admitted. He paused and spoke in a low voice.

"But right now, I don't like you very much."


	17. Chapter 17 Bottoms Up

TAKING A CHANCE  
CHAPTER 17

"BOTTOMS UP"

Miriam looked away from Frank, tears streaming down her cheeks. Joe watched her, wondering why he felt any sympathy at all for the woman. She made her own bed, she should have to lie in it, whatever Frank's decision was. Still, Joe knew what it meant to love someone you couldn't have. He carried his love for Iola Morton far past her death, wishing he could hold her in his arms just one more time, to kiss her.

Thank God for Vanessa, Joe smiled slightly as he thought of his ash-blonde girlfriend. Beautiful, funny, talented – and not inclined to put up with any of Joe's shenanigans, she entered his life at the right time – when he was ready to move on again.

"Why don't you have a seat?" Frank said to Joe and Nancy, motioning to the gorgeous living room nearby. "Do you want anything to drink? This might take a while and… I have some thinking to do."

Joe stared at him for a moment. "Are you all right, Frank?" Joe asked him.

Frank considered for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm as all right as I'm going to be, uh, Joe. Just give me some time, would you? I need to talk to Diana and I need… I need to make some decisions."

"We'll be waiting," Joe said. "In fact, we could go to our hotel and come back if that would make it easier on you."

He hated to leave his brother behind. For one, he didn't trust Miriam or her family and for another he was half afraid he would never see Frank again if he left.

"No," Frank shook his head. "I'm going to have more questions and I'm going to need to talk to you too. It'd be easier if you were here so I can do that. The kitchen is through the other door from the living room, there's plenty of water, juice, soda and milk in the fridge. There's teabags in the cabinet above the sink."

Joe nodded. "We'll be fine," he said. "Go on."

Frank put his hand on his wife's back and directed her up the stairs of their home, leaving Joe and Nancy in the living room.

"What do you think is going to happen?" Nancy sat down gingerly on one of the sofas. "Do you think… do you think this is going to work out?"

"I don't know," Joe admitted. He looked back over at the stairs and wondered what Frank and Miriam were talking about. So far, he didn't hear any screaming so either Miriam was cowed or she was saving up for the end of Frank's next speech. "I think… no, let's make that, I want to think he's coming with us. That he wants to get to know his family again. I just don't know if that's what's going to happen or not. He may decide he has to stay here anyway, despite what's happened."

"You don't think he will?" Nancy looked alarmed at the thought.

"I don't know," Joe shrugged. "I'm trying not to think about it. We're strangers to him now and people tend to stick with what they know over what they don't know. I've learned that well enough over the years."

Nancy reluctantly agreed as she settled back into the sofa on which she sat.

They both waited for a long while, talking softly about their hopes – that Frank would come home with them. So far, they heard no shouting from above. Whatever else was going on, the discussion above was quiet enough not to be heard downstairs and Joe, as curious as he was, actively tried not to listen the few times he did hear voices from above.

Nancy got up awhile later and went into the kitchen. She took out a bottle of water from the fridge for herself and brought a can of soda to Joe. They sipped on them, grateful for the distraction as they waited.

Finally, however, Frank came back down the stairs and sat down in a chair in the living room.

"What did you decide?" Joe asked.

"I haven't decided anything yet," Frank rocked back in his chair. "I wanted to get some more answers from her, about what happened, why I'm here and it's easier to deal with her when she doesn't have an audience. She admitted she knew who I really was, that she had always known my name was Frank Hardy. She said her father brought me to St. Louis two years ago and was going to use me to get to our father and then kill me but when I ended up being so out of it, she begged her father to let her have me. She said her father thought about it and decided it would be revenge enough, to have all of you think I'm dead and to make me his son by marriage."

Frank shook his head, looking lost. He stared at Joe for a few moments, studying him.

"We don't look a lot alike do we?" he asked.

"Well, we have the same general lines but otherwise, no. I take more after our mom, Laura and you take after our dad, Fenton."

Frank nodded. "I keep seeing them," he confessed. "I've had dreams about a dark haired man and a blonde woman, for months now. I knew they were my parents but I thought they were dead. I never pursued the dreams, you know. Just let them go when I woke up again."

Frank looked over at Nancy, frowning slightly as he watched her.

"I dreamed about you too," he said. "Were we… a couple?"

Nancy shook her head. "No," she admitted softly. "I think… I think we could have been, but when we knew each other we were both involved with someone else. I had a boyfriend, Ned and you had a girlfriend, Callie."

Frank flushed slightly. "I was kissing you in my dream. We didn't ever kiss?"

Nancy glanced at Joe and flushed as well. "Uhm, twice. But we… we sort of regretted it when it was over."

Frank nodded and Joe wished he could read that expression on Frank's face. Did he want something more with Nancy? Where did that leave Miriam?

"What about… an older lady, gray hair, kind of a stern face?" Frank inquired of Joe.

Joe burst out laughing. "That's our Aunt Gertrude," Joe said. "She lives with us most of the time. She's our dad's older sister. Her bark is much worse than her bite."

Frank grinned. "Sounds like someone I want to get to know again. What do…"

Joe lost his next words when the door burst open, crashing hard into the wall beside it.

Goon 1 and Goon 2 stepped into the room, guns held on Joe, Frank and Nancy.

Marcius Ras-Alman stepped in between the two men, a gun in his hands as well.

"I warned you, Mr. Hardy, what would happen if you interfered with my family," Ras-Alman glared. "James, come here with me right now."

"No thank you," Frank declared. "And the name is Frank Hardy, not James."

"JAMES," Ras-Alman said more sternly. "Come here. NOW."

"NO," Frank said just as forcefully. "I'm staying here, with my brother and my friend. Whatever you have planned for them you have planned for me too."

Ras-Alman looked ready to blow a gasket but he stepped forward a step.

"Fine," he said. "You will all three come with me. Let's go."

"Nope," Joe said. "If you're going to shoot us you may as well do it right here. We're not making this easy on you."

"Who says I'm going to shoot you?" Ras-Alman smiled. "I took James two years ago to use against your father. I think it's time I went through with my plan, don't you? Now, come. NOW."

He held up his gun and pointed it right at Frank. "I don't need to keep both of you alive. One will suffice."

Nancy, Joe and Frank exchanged nervous glances and all three walked slowly forward, hands outstretched.


	18. Chapter 18 Out of the Frying Pan

TAKING A CHANCE  
CHAPTER 18

OUT OF THE FRYING PAN, INTO THE FIRE

"Wait, just wait! Daddy, don't do this!" Miriam cried out as she ran forward, throwing an arm around Frank's arm and holding on tightly. "Don't take him away! I love him!"

Ras-Alman made a face at his daughter, his disgust evident on his face. He nodded to one of his goon-squad and Goon 1 stepped forward, took Miriam's arm and pulled her away from Frank.

"Take her upstairs," Ras-Alman ordered. "This is not good for her baby. You will see that she is cared for."

"No, Daddy!" Miriam screamed, yanking free of Goon 1's hold on her. "No. He's my husband! I love him and you can't have him. You can't! He's wonderful and sweet and kind and my baby needs a father. You can't have him. Take THEM away."

She pointed to Joe and Nancy.

"I'm not staying without them, Diana," Frank said softly. "I'm not going to let your father take them away and hurt or kill them. If they go, I go."

"No!" Miriam screamed. "No! You have to stay here with me."

Frank shook his head and stepped away from her. He turned toward his father-in-law. "Is this what you want, Father?" he asked Ras-Alman in a formal tone. "To cause your daughter this distress. It can be easier on all of us. Just let me go."

"I'm afraid not," Ras-Alman said. "You know who I really am. To let you free is not something I can do now. I will not allow you to leave."

He raised his gun again and pointed it right at Frank.

"Do I kill you here, in front of your wife, James?" Ras-Alman asked his son-in-law. "Or do you come quietly?"

"I've thought about that," Frank admitted. "And I've got to admit I don't like either one of those choices. No, actually, I think I'm going to go with option C."

Frank looked at Joe for a minute, then lashed out with a leg and hit Ras-Alman in the gun hand. The gun went flying across the room as Joe hit Goon 2 with a full-on body tackle and Nancy jumped on goon 3's back.

"You… dare!" Ras-Alman's eyes filled with fury as he raced to get his gun. Frank jumped into his path and lashed out with a solid right hook at Ras-Alman's face. The older man ducked and lunged at Frank, trying to tackle him to the ground! Frank slammed down hard on the back of his father-in-law's neck, causing Ras-Alman to grunt in pain.

Joe landed two solid hits on Goon 2 and took one solid hit to his shoulder from the man. Goon 2 fought like a lion, scratching, clawing and even biting.

"You fight like a girl," Joe informed in a hostile voice. "Man, what a baby."

Goon 2 grunted and sent another flying left hook at Joe's face. Joe ducked under it and landed a solid blow in Goon 2's solar plexus, causing the man to grunt and fall backward in a solid whoosh of air! Joe finished him off with a kick to the face that sent the goon reeling backward and collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

Nancy was still on Goon 1's back, her hands over his eyes. He whirled around in a circle trying to get loose of her and he didn't see Joe's hand coming at his face when Joe hit him. Nancy jumped off his back and landed a couple of solid pops of her own, causing Goon 1 to yell in frustration and ram Joe back against a wall.

The two remaining fights didn't last much longer. As Frank was about to take out Ras-Alman for good, the terrorist lunged forward and got his hands back on his gun. He whirled and held it directly on Frank's forehead.

"That is enough," Ras-Alman said. "Let go of my men. Back up and hold your hands above your head."

Joe and Nancy backed up, holding their hands up. They had been so close to taking out all three of them! Frank glared at his father-in-law in defiance.

"I have had enough of all of you," Ras-Alman stated hotly. "You will, all of you, stop this foolishness immediately. You will go with my men out to the car that is waiting out front. If any of you try anything stupid, I will be forced to kill James, right now."

Joe and Nancy exchanged uncertain glances.

"Don't do it," Frank said. "He's going to kill me – us – anyway. Don't make it easy on him. Don't do it!"

Ras-Alman pulled purposefully on the trigger.

"Wait!" Joe exclaimed. "We'll go. We'll go! Come on, Nancy."

Frank nearly deflated where he stood. Joe knew his brother was still a little confused and uncertain but if they all stayed alive, now, they would have a chance to get away later. Ras-Alman pushed Frank toward his men, his gun still squarely aimed at Frank's heart.

"Go. NOW!" Ras-Alman ordered.

Frank stepped toward his brother and their friend and turned once, to glance at Miriam. She stood near the steps that went upstairs, her face pale. Miriam was shaking fearfully, watching Frank with large, eyes and a lost expression on her face.

It all happened in an instant.

Frank took a step toward Miriam.

Miriam suddenly sprang up and ran toward him.

A shot was fired and Frank – and Miriam – fell to the ground as blood bubbled up around them.


	19. Chapter 19 Forever Young

TAKING A CHANCE

CHAPTER 19

"FOREVER YOUNG"

For many moments time froze.

Nobody moved.

Nobody talked.

Joe tried to break free of the numbed shock that filled him but he stood immobile, unable to process the event toward him. Blood continued to well up underneath Frank and Miriam and he feared it was all Frank's. His mind said the same thing over and over again. "Not again, not again, not again, not again, not again…"

It was Nancy who moved first, running to Frank and Miriam's sides. When she moved it broke Joe from the spell of fear and he ran forward as well, kneeling beside his brother and touching Frank's pulse in his neck. It beat quickly and strongly underneath his fingers and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Frank?" Joe said, softly. "Frank, are you all right?"

Frank moved, blinking his eyes as he stared up at his brother. Joe smiled into those familiar, warm brown eyes and let the relief fill him, grateful beyond words that Frank was alive.

"Diana!" Frank suddenly gasped out as he struggled with his wife, who lay on top of him. Joe and Nancy helped Frank sit up and Frank pulled his wife into his arms as tears began to fall down his cheeks.

"Diana, baby," Frank said to her. "Sweetheart, talk to me. Diana?"

She stared up at him, her breath shallow and gasping. Frank tried to ignore the wound in her chest and the blood… so much blood that welled up around her. Tears continued to fall down Frank's cheeks as he glared up at his father-in-law.

"You killed her," he said accusingly. "All she ever did was love you and you killed her!"

Ras-Alman shook his head, glaring. "It is you who is at fault. And them. If you had merely ordered them away none of this would have happened."

"No…" Miriam whispered. "No… fight…"

Frank looked back at his wife and gently stroked her cheek, pushing her hair back out of the way. "Someone call an ambulance!" he shouted. "We can still save her."

Joe ignored the guns pointed his way and pulled out his cell phone. A quick call to 911 insured that both an ambulance and the police were dispatched. Ras-Alman shook his head quickly, suddenly aware that the law was about to descend on them.

"We leave, now!" Ras-Alman ordered the two goons. "Let's go."

"That's just like you, Marcius," Joe glared at the man. "Running out on your daughter and saving your own skin. I guess we know who really loves her, don't we?"

Marcius Ras-Alman raised his gun and pointed it squarely at Joe's head. Joe stared back, unflinching. He had seen the fight go out of the terrorist. His daughter was his world.

"I should kill you," Ras-Alman said.

"But you won't," Joe said. "Because you may be a lot of things but you aren't a hypocrite. You know I'm right. You know it's your fault she's dead and not mine and you wouldn't have me pay for something you did. You're big on people paying for their mistakes aren't you? How do you pay for your own?"

Ras-Alman hit Joe then, sending the younger man flying. Joe landed against a wall and slid down, his face aching.

Ras-Alman turned and left the room – and his daughter – behind.

A wall shifted.

Frank Hardy blinked as he stared at his brother and at the woman who knelt beside him and his wife and saw the world in sudden, crystal-clear clarity. The lies he had been fed since the explosion were suddenly shredded into a million pieces as he remembered.

His brother.

And Nancy Drew a friend with potential to be more.

But he couldn't go to his brother yet. His wife was dying in his arms. She held on, gripping his arm as tightly as her weakening state allowed couldn't talk. Her eyes stared into his and he saw her love for him clearly there.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he said to her, rocking her back and forth. "I'm so sorry."

"Love… you…" Diana whispered again. "Love… you…"

"I love you," Frank admitted – and felt guilty. It hadn't been the kind of love she wanted, he knew that. It wasn't really even the kind of love she deserved. But he had loved her as best as his confused, muddled mind allowed.

The world shifted into a sudden muddle of chaos. Police officers and paramedics, all kinds of people intruding into Frank's world. He gave his statement, once, and was allowed to go with Joe and Nancy to the hospital as long as he promised not to leave the area.

He sat in the hospital waiting room, surprised Diana held on as long as she had. He knew she wouldn't live – the wound was too severe – but he knew the doctors would try. Frank sat still in his chair, not seeing anything or hearing anything, merely waiting and biding his time.

It was easier not to think.

Finally, after a small eternity, a doctor in white appeared and sat down beside him.

"Mr. Fleming," the doctor said as he pulled off his mask. "We tried, son, we really did but we weren't able to save your wife."

Frank nodded, still numb and dry-mouthed. He'd known they wouldn't and yet, despite not loving her the way she deserved, he'd hoped she would live.

"We took your daughter, James," the doctor continued. Frank supposed he should correct the man but he didn't have the energy for it. "I don't know if you were aware that your wife was several months pregnant?"

"I knew," Frank said. "But she said she was only four months. I thought… I thought the baby would die with her."

The doctor shook her head. "No. She was about seven months along. Your daughter will have to be here for a few weeks to get her weight up – she's very strong – but she should be just fine. We've had children more premature than she who have survived."

Seven months. "She wasn't showing yet," Frank said. "Wouldn't she have been very pregnant? Shouldn't I have known she was that far along?"

"Some women, a few have that rare ability to not look pregnant. You can see it in her face, of course, and in her chest but while you would notice a roundness in her stomach…" Frank nodded, he had noticed that… "You won't necessarily notice anything more."

"What about… what about my brother?" Frank asked, finally. He looked over at Nancy who sat nearby, a small smile on her face.

"He's getting stitches. He should be back out here in a few minutes," the doctor said. "That was quite a punch someone had."

Frank nodded. "Doctor, my real name is Frank Hardy. Could you have my daughter's records changed to reflect that? And… can I see her?"

"You can," the doctor smiled. "She's in neonatal care, on the 4th floor. You should name her and hold her, if you can."

Frank nodded again. He was going numb again, his mind on the verge of shutdown and yet, he considered. A daughter. He had a daughter!

"Nancy," he turned to his friend. "Will you… will you go with me?"

Nancy smiled and nodded. "I'd be honored."

They went up to the 4th floor and found Frank's daughter hooked up to a few machines in the neonatal care unit.

"She's so tiny," Nancy whispered. "Look at her!"

"She's strong, though," a nurse said. "That one is a fighter. Have you come up with a name yet?"

Frank shook his head. "We hadn't really talked about names yet. I thought she was only four months… Diana never mentioned…"

He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Diana," he said. "I want to name her Diana. Diana Laura Hardy."

The nurse smiled. "That's a beautiful name. I'll get it noted in her charts."

Frank finally got to hold his daughter for a few minutes after gowning up and putting on gloves. He gently stroked her cheek and rocked her in a rocking chair.

"Forever young, baby," Frank told his daughter. "Your mama will be forever young."

With hope in his eyes he looked up at Nancy and smiled, the first real smile since this whole thing began that Nancy had seen and she smiled back as Frank got to know his daughter.


	20. Chapter 20 Concl Life's Dawning Hope

TAKING A CHANCE  
CHAPTER 20

"Life's Dawning Hope"

"Nancy, would you stay here with her?" Frank asked his friend a short while later when he knew he would have to make arrangements for Diana's body. "I… I have some things I have to do but I don't want to leave her here alone."

Nancy smiled warmly and leaned forward and hugged Frank. The baby was back in her bed, sleeping soundly, one little fist clenching and unclenching as if she missed her father already. Frank smiled back at her as he stood.

"I don't mind," Nancy said. "Are you sure you don't want me with you? As moral support if nothing else?"

"I'm sure," Frank agreed. "I would rather you stay with Diana. I want someone with her that I can trust…"

Nancy nodded. "All right," she said obligingly. "That's fine."

Nancy leaned back in the seat that Frank vacated and watched as Frank went out of the door of the neonatal unit.

Frank made his way downstairs where he met up with Joe in the emergency room. Joe had a bandage on one cheek and was still holding an ice pack to the back of his head but his younger brother never looked better as far as Frank was concerned. Frank hugged his brother for a moment, grateful to be able to perform that simple action and he smiled confidently at the younger man.

"I missed you," Joe said as he studied his brother's face. "You don't know how much."

"As much as I did, without knowing it. I knew something was missing from my life the whole time. I didn't know what it was. It was my family. You, mom and dad…. Mom and Dad! I have to…"

"Don't worry," Joe laughed. "I took care of it already. They'll be here as soon as they can get a flight out."

"They're coming here?" Frank asked incredulously.

"Of course they're coming here!" Joe exclaimed. "You aren't leaving until Diana can, right? And you have to deal with the funeral for Miriam and all that, there's no way they were going to wait that long. They'll be here later today or maybe tomorrow morning, depending on what happens."

Frank smiled and relaxed. "Oh yeah. That makes sense."

Joe shook his head, laughing. "You're a great brother, you know that?"

"At least as good as you, I suppose," Frank said. He sobered. "I have to talk to the doctor about when I can see Diana and make arrangements for… for the funeral."

Joe saw the hint of pain in Frank's eyes and he touched Frank's shoulder, squeezing it. "I'm here to help, bro," he offered gently. "Let's go do this."

They tracked down Miriam's doctor and got the information they needed. The police were holding the body pending the outcome of their investigation but that he had already determined cause-of-death and it was in the report he filed. Frank nodded his thanks to the man and turned away.

"She'd hate all of this fuss," he admitted to Joe. "While she was… well, she craved attention she didn't like fuss. She liked things peaceful and quiet. I don't have the first idea about where to bury her…"

Frank shook his head and sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly exhausted. He sagged into a chair in a waiting room and leaned forward. Tears fell down his cheeks as he began to cry again.

"I miss her," he whispered. "Maybe… maybe I didn't love her like she wanted, but… I miss her. I did love her, Joe. Not as much as I should…"

"It's okay," Joe squeezed Frank's shoulder again. "You can miss her. You can love her. It's better than the other things you could do, like hate her. Despite what happened, I don't even hate her. Ras-Alman, though…"

"He's going down," Frank vowed. "One way or another, if I have to hunt the whole entire globe, I'm going to find him and take him down."

"He has a lot to pay for," Joe smiled evilly. "And I don't mind helping you make him pay up in full."

Frank and Joe exchanged glances and Joe knew, without a doubt, that he was coming out of retirement, now.

The reunion between Frank and his parents was bittersweet. They arrived late that evening, having barely caught the last flight out of New York to St. Louis and, in the airport baggage claim area, Fenton, Laura and Frank hugged and held onto each other for several very long minutes. Joe stood to one side with Nancy, both of them smiling at each other. A tear escaped down Nancy's eyes as she watched the reunion – and the healing of wounds on both sides.

"I'm so very happy to see you again, son," Laura Hardy touched her son's cheek again when they finally parted. "You have no idea…"

"I do," Frank touched her cheek back. "Now that I remember, I do have an idea…"

They hugged again and, arm-in-arm, with Fenton and Joe carrying their suitcases, they went out to Nancy's father's car and loaded everything up. The five person fit was a bit cramped but nobody seemed to mind very much.

Fenton and Laura met their granddaughter the next day and both took turns holding her, cooing at the precious bundle. Laura cried again when she heard the baby's name – Diana Laura – and promised to help Frank all he wanted with the baby.

They laid the body of Miriam Diana Alman Fleming-Hardy to rest two weeks later in a private cemetery located in a quiet wooded area of St. Louis. Frank knelt beside his wife's grave and gently placed two roses on the top of it and promised, with all his heart, to care for and love their daughter.

She was, very simply put, life's dawning hope.

THE END


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